Under the Wing of a Black Bird
by Shul
Summary: What was it to be a hero? Jaune thought he knew. But the glory, the legends were but illusions to his naive vision - all of it burnt to ash at his own powerlessness. With Beacon starting in a mere year and his best shot being this drunken heap of bad luck - he would have preferred an alternative. If it didn't spontaneously combust first, that is.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Author's Notes:**

**So it's come to this… a Master Qrow story… I only have one word.**

**...**

**Yikes.**

**The whole Qrow training Jaune schtick. I've seen a couple of stories around the concept - but ultimately less represented than I would have thought. Sort of surprised me really.**

**Fair warning though, there will be two OC's introduced who may or may not be important and there is also a pretty major timeskip to the start of Beacon. However, that's not to say the misadventures of Qrow and Jaune will go unwritten; I plan to add them to the end of chapters where they seem appropriate as `omakes` but not really omakes since they have pretty important character interactions between the two.**

**Now I hear you asking, `well, why don't you just add them as their own separate chapters before Beacon starts? ` and I would like to respond with a story called `Shattered Arc`, which is another Master Qrow story that I highly recommend that you read. Unfortunately, it can't be found on this website anymore - but it's the internet; you'll find it somewhere.**

**This story also skipped adding the Qrow training segments and instead implemented them while telling the main plot of the story.**

**At least that's how I remember it...**

**I guess a difference would be that he flashes back in the middle of the chapter, whereas I am to do it at the end where I can help it..? We'll just have to see how it plays out.**

**Enjoy the first chapter of `Under the Wing of a Blackbird`, criticism and pointing out my mistakes is always welcome!**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I really like Coeur Al'Aran's OC cast of the Arc family, so I try to take inspiration from them in both name and action. Thanks, Coeur!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Prologue, Fires of Beginning

* * *

In all the shows he watched and all the comics he read, Jaune always thought running away from home would be a journey filled with adventure, excitement, general badassery and a large harem of various women with impressive assets that he would meet along the way.

…It's probably best the type of media he consumed remained unknown, but suffice to say - it was a pretty big pain in the ass so far. Nights where he couldn't put up his tent the right way until the birds sang the next morning, dwindling supplies of Pumpkin Pete cereal in his backpack and the constant homesickness that plagued him, all spelt for a pretty unpleasant experience.

…

Man, this sucked.

So imagine the teen's relief when he stumbled out of the bushes of the greenery and laid his eyes on a small settlement currently bustling with working people.

Ugh, _finally._ It's been a week since he saw any actual people, so it was refreshing to see that civilization hasn't crumbled in the time he was away. Because that would be inconvenient.

Who would there be for him to save then?

Shrugging his armour-plated shoulder to give his backpack a better position, Jaune Arc began to meld into the crowd of busy villagers intent to refill his supplies and refuel his energy.

"Hey, sorry sir, but could you point me to the nearest inn?" Jaune held up his hand to a passerby as he asked. He expected tonight would be a good night's rest for a change and couldn't wait to feel the warmth of a bed's sheets.

What he didn't expect was for the man he questioned to give him the stink eye, pausing in his tracks to do so, before continuing with a sour expression.

The blond's hand remained in the air as he began to feel small droplets of water form on his forehead. _How embarrassing…_ the thought of getting ignored in front of so many people made heat rush to his face. Was it something he said?

But no matter! Jaune was to be an amazing and heroic huntsman, what was a little social interaction to him?

"Could you tell me-"

"Sorry but-"

"Is there a-"

Every. Single. Time. _Every_ single time he tried to get information from somebody, they would look at him like he was an insect before taking off. Sure, Jaune mostly stayed inside and played video games so his social stats were exactly _up-to-par_ but even he knew this wasn't a problem with him.

The only logical conclusion was this was a town full of douchebags.

Yes.

Jaune internally contemplated his current situation and externally sighed, taking a seat on an old, mostly broken crate on the side of the cobbled road. It's not like he couldn't just walk around until he found a place to sleep, the town wasn't all that big after all; it was just he thought he should make an effort to interact with people more after getting out of the house.

Gods knew his sisters would always get on his case about not having any friends and being a general socially inept potato.

Out of nowhere, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned to meet what it connected to. An average looking man with a beard smiled at him. So average you could have probably been good friends with him and still walk by him on the streets without noticing the guy, Jaune notioned.

"Heard you've been looking for an inn, bucko. If you want, I can show you the way to one travellers here normally stay at." The man said.

Jaune's expression lit up slightly at the man's kindness. His eldest sister, Sapphire, always told him not to talk to strangers but eat your heart out dear sister; not _everyone _is some drugged up thief only coming up to you to mug you.

/-/

Air was expelled from Jaune's lungs after a knee came to his solar plexus, brutally connecting and leaving him on the ground. Both of his arms wrapped around his midsection in a futile attempt to quell the immense pain and lack of oxygen. Instead, he sputtered and coughed violently as another person sent a kick to the side of the young teen's head leaving him sprawled to the side.

"Heheheh… say, kid… you must be a special breed of idiot if you trusted some random guy who came up to _you_ promising ya' shit." A grimy voice came from an average face. The same average face that brought Jaune down this deep, dark alleyway filled with the smell faeces, urine and… blood. It was a miracle Jaune could even use his nose.

Sadly, it was the only miracle it looked like he was going to get.

A chorus of laughter echoed across the broken brick walls as another stomp from somebody else came to his stomach. Puke threatened to burst from Jaune's mouth. Puke or blood, one or the other. But he had to fight back, he had to live! He had so much to do and vowed too much to die like this.

With all his strength, Jaune reached for his weapon, the Arc family's blade, Crocea Mors - who's form lay a metre from him. A jolt of pain came through his left hand as a boot crashed down onto his wrist like thunder.

With all of his voice, Jaune screamed in torment, feeling the bones snap. Who knew man was so fragile?

A now familiar voice whistled, "That's a nice looking sword you got there. Nothing too fancy, but it looks pretty vintage. Would go well on the market. Your grandpappy give you this for your birthday or something?"

Even under the mercy of half a dozen grown men, Jaune's blood boiled in anger at the mishandling of his family heirloom. That sword was used to save so many people's lives in the hundreds of years since its birth… how _dare_ he treat it like some item he can just pawn off! "Put. The sword down. Or I swear to the Gods I'll- ARRRGH!"

"Sorry, what was that?" the man taunted, now passing off the sword to one of his accomplices. "I don't understand _little bitch_. Why don't you-" he paused, raising his head to see a figure at the end of the alleyway. The body and face of the intruder were shadowed by the light coming inwards. "Who the hell are you?"

It remained silent.

The leader of the group inclined his head to the shadowy figure, prompting one of his goons to charge - his fist ready to strike. Running towards the light, his footing mixed up, leading him to fall flat on his face into a small pile of dog faeces just in front of his target. He made to get up, only for the sole of a black shoe to stomp the unexpecting man back down into is as he ground his face in shit.

For around ten seconds the gesture continued as the victim made vain pursuits to stop his assaulter until the initial shock wore off and the rest of the men charged without rhyme or reason, completely forgetting about the mangled boy they left deeper in the darkness behind them.

With an exhausted sigh, less so from the physical activity and more so about what he had to now do, the figure gave his floored victim a final shove into the ground before stepping forward and bashing the man unfortunate to be the fastest of the pack.

Only a single punch. Straight into the nose, the poor man was sent flying backward into one of his comrades out cold who struggled to escape the weight of his body. Next, he dismantled another with a swift kick to the legs, knocking another goon down from the lack of support - falling victim to gravity as he hit his head straight on the hard, stone floor.

Surprisingly enough, the sight didn't deter one of the muggers from trying to land a hit on their sudden assailant. It was a clumsy attack that was easily sidestepped before the man busted a kneecap forcing the unlucky thief to take a knee. He didn't even get a chance to look into the eyes of his attacker as a lightning-fast knee met the bottom of his chin, knocking out teeth in the process.

Jaune swore he could hear a pin drop in the silence of the alleyway, once filled with malicious laughter as the man who led him here looked as though he was about to wet himself there and now in front of the teen's savior.

He did what any self-preserving creature would do in that situation.

Run away as fast as he could.

How clever.

The figure made no move to apprehend him as the leader desperately dashed past him, leaving his gang and his victim in the dust behind him. Eventually, a scoff sounded as footsteps became louder and louder to Jaune as the sound rebounded from the walls.

But without indication, the man stopped dead before turning his head for a second. The rest of his body followed suit, leaving Jaune crippled and alone. Did that man just leave? Why the hell-

"Hey, Aunt, did you hear that?" A new voice entered the vicinity, a girl near the same age as the wounded teen appeared in the light across the alleyway. "It sounded like- what the-"

"H-help…" Jaune's weak voice begged, unconscious will to survive overcoming confusion.

"Holy crap, Aunt get over here, someone needs help!" the voice screamed, stepping over the unconscious (Jaune hoped), bloody bodies of his once muggers.

"Lyn, what have I told you about running off like that?" Somebody older entered in behind the girl in front of Jaune's vision. "Dear Gods, what on Remnant happened here? Lyn, help me carry him back to the inn." Before she even finished her sentence, the girl named Lyn already hoisted the injured teen over her shoulder and began to carry him out of the depths of his almost-grave.

"M… ord…" Jaune's own voice came out haggard.

"What did you say?"

"My… sword…"

Lyn turned back to see a metal blade sheathed in an elegant white on the ground near to where the boy laid earlier. It seemed to have been dropped in a hurry of some sort.

"Here, let me help you with that." Her Aunt gestured to take some of the weight from carrying the blond but Lyn shook her head.

"It's fine, just get his stuff, please." Easily enough, she complied, retrieving the sword and backpack before nodding to signal that they should probably leave.

The boy talked once more, "Thank… you…" before his head dropped, leaving the bangs of his hair to cover his eyes.

Just before Lyn began to panic, she felt the rise and fall of his chest next to her own, indicating that he most likely passed out from exhaustion. Relief washed over her as she and her aunt began to make their way back into the sunlight and to their inn.

As she left she saw a man getting violently apprehended by the police, pushed against the ground and handcuffed, all while he swore and cursed at the officers surrounding him. He was generally average looking, nothing really worth noting about his features apart from a beard. Looks like he was caught in the act of something.

How unlucky for him.

/-/

Jaune actually woke up in the middle of being carried by something warm, soft and smelling like flowers.

So it sucked pretty hard when he was thrown onto what he assumed was a collection of wooden tables.

"Oof… ugh…"

Lyn's chestnut hair bobbed as she tilted her head, "You're awake? Well, you're lucky that we can treat you ourselves right now since everyone is outside working." She told the half-conscience boy laying on the makeshift bed before her. "First of all, let's see what's wrong with you."

Really, Jaune didn't have the energy to be embarrassed by the fact that a real-life girl was checking around his body since most of it went to wincing in pain at her prods.

"Hm. It looks like it's mostly just bruising and scrape wounds." Jaune subconsciously brought his hand to his stomach. "Mainly around the midsection and head. Here, I need to move your hand if I want to sort out."

A sharp gasp was spat out of the boy's mouth. Almost immediately, Lyn gave the wrist she held an experimental squeeze, earning her a second wince. "A broken wrist? Now that I look at it, the swelling is starting. Luckily for you, it's already in the right position to heal up. We have pain killers and it's not too hard to whip up a makeshift splint. Aunt, could you look over him while I get the stuff?"

The Arc's blue eyes found themselves trailing Lyn as she rushed off into what he assumed was a kitchen of sorts behind the bar of the inn.

"Amazing isn't she?" Lyn's aunt pulled up a chair to sit next to Jaune and he couldn't help but agree. She took control of the situation and is following through on her proposed solutions without hesitation. It was something that made Jaune somewhat envious of her ability.

So in the end, he let his exhaustion wane over him once more and put himself under the mercy of a girl he just met.

/-/

"There, give it a week or two and it should be good as new." Jaune, now sat on a chair instead of having his back on a table, examined the bandages and singular splint that now decorated his body. Having taken the painkillers offered by Lyn from before, the once throbbing that spanned over his entire body had lessened to just more than a lingering headache - meaning he could now form coherent words and sentences to communicate with his saviors.

"So, what's your name?" Lyn's aunt asked. Her own hair was as brown as her nieces but was instead much wavier and came down in a ponytail around her neck. There was also the more pressing feature of her green skirt's length but for a teenage boy, it took extreme diligence to keep your eyes somewhere more decent as she sat leg over leg on her chair.

Jaune Arc was not very diligent.

"Uh, Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it!" He ended with a wink. Which then turned into a wince and a gasp.

After a _long_ second, Lyn's aunt managed to stifle a small giggle under her hand. Lyn herself dove behind the bar and Jaune could hear her rolling around and slamming her fist against the floor planks, bawling.

"Do they though?" The more reserved of the pair asked. Jaune's answer was a glance at his feet and a blush on his face muttering something along the lines of `hoping they will`. "My name is Pearl, and my niece's name is Rosalyn - but everyone calls her Lyn. You're also welcome to call her that, " she added with a wink.

"Aunt…" Now recovered and sitting on the bar, Lyn added with a slight tint to her cheeks. She wore a dark brown sweatshirt, the sleeves covering half of her hands - barely leaving the fingers visible - and denim shorts that displayed a generous amount of thigh.

"It's nice to meet you, however, the conditions of our meeting not so much…"

"Yeah, you looked like you went through hell. What happened to you?"

The only fair-haired person in the room brought his left hand up to the back of his head as a nervous tick before remembering it was in a splint for a reason as pain shot through it, earning Jaune an intake of air through the teeth. Chuckling nervously at the duo's raised eyebrows he started, "I just got here after about a week of traveling and was looking for a place to stay. Those guys told me they knew the way and told me to follow them. Guess where that got me, heh…"

Pearl uncrossed her legs and crossed them the opposite way. Jaune very much noticed. "Unfortunately, that's not all too uncommon here. This town has somewhat of a notorious reputation for taking advantage of unsuspecting, dumb travellers and tourists. No offense."

"None taken."

"I guess you were lucky that we found you when we did or who knows what could have happened to you."

This time it was Lyn who spoke, hopping down from the bar counter, "I mean you came out looking like crap but you should have seen the other guys, you did a real number on them, didn't you?"

"I-uh…" But he didn't _do_ anything? Apart from get his ass handed to him by a group of common thugs. "Did you see anyone… leave the alleyway? You know, before you showed up?"

Tilting her head slightly in bewilderment, Lyn replied, "Hm. I did see someone getting arrested looking like he came from your direction, but I don't think that's what you're asking for, is it? Was there someone else there with you?"

They didn't see his mysterious hero then? It would be hard to track him down and say thank you, in that case. The shadows of the alleyway did wonders in hiding his identity, and the only really discernible feature they had was a cape of sorts.

Kind of tacky, now that Jaune thought about it.

"Yes."

"Huh?" Confused didn't really properly explain the level of bamboozled Lyn felt at her patient's articulation.

"Yes. I did beat up the group of men."

"Good… for you. It's not like we doubted you, anyway…"

Jaune's sea-blue eyes met the amber eyes of the girl standing above him and stared.

He could have gotten lost in her gaze.

It didn't help that an ever-glowing red started to tint his cheeks as eye contact remained.

"Okay, you two," Pearl rescued the boy from his own complete and utter ineptitude at holding a conversation. "Jaune. You seem like you're on an important journey, if you don't mind telling us, what are you after?" The older woman attempted to reset the topic.

This question was easy enough, Jaune had it all planned out. Run away, go to Beacon, become a huntsman, be a hero. Easy enough, right? "I want to become a huntsman. I'm trying to get to Beacon so I can be somebody that can save people… a hero."

"A huntsman, hm?" Pearl's eyes briefly glanced to her niece.

"Yeah! See, my father is a huntsman, and his father before him was a hero, and his father before him too. I just… I just want to follow in their footsteps." He shifted his head to look at the sword that rested on top it, "That blade was used by them all to save countless people. I can only hope to be as great as them."

Once again, the eldest in the room spoke, "You must be quite special to have been given it."

It took everything Jaune had not to recoil at the words. He couldn't bear tell these two, who already had faith in him, that his father denied his desire and he had to steal the heirloom and run.

So he just nodded.

Lyn put a slender finger to her chin. "Arc, hm? For a line of heroes, I haven't really heard that name before. Ow! Aunt?"

"Don't be rude." Her elder scolded, who was now standing by her niece in the split-second Jaune wasn't looking - so much so that he had to do a quick double-take between the chair and Pearl's current position.

Waving off the comment, Jaune explained, "I don't blame you." He brought his right hand this time to scratch the back of his head. "Apparently, we were a lot more prominent in Vale. But my father… he wanted to get away from all that. So he brought us with him to here, in Mistral."

"Huntsmen, huh… my parents were both Huntsmen too, you know?"

"Lyn…"

"No, it's alright, Aunt. They went out on a mission once when I was super, duper young and they never came back. Apparently, Mom made her sister promise something." Lyn was surprisingly nonchalant, even trying to meet the eyes of her Aunt - who turned her head and glanced at a particular part of the floor instead. "She told her that `if something ever happened to me and my husband, please take care of my daughter. And _please, _keep her off of the path we chose. Right, Aunt?"

"It's true. And once Amy was presumed dead, I made true on my promise."

"I-"

"I'm over it though. It's been like a decade, time heals all wounds and everything, so don't feel bad, Jaune. Instead, I think I want to become something of a doctor. Saving lives, but in a different way." She placed her hands on her hips and gave a reassuring smile. "So I guess our goals are pretty similar, don't you think?"

"I... yeah. They are." Blond hair swayed in a nod. Jaune gave a more awkward smile in return, but it was the thought that counted.

"Why go to Beacon though, Jaune?" Pearl looked more at ease now that the previous topic had ceased discussion. "Surely it would be much easy to go to Haven instead?"

"I've heard Beacon is where all the great Huntsmen came from, including my ancestors. It just feels right."

"Still, it's a very long way from here. Do you have anyone that we can call to meet up with you?"

Both of his hands spikes upward to wave off the concern, earning him another spike of pain. "No, no! I'm traveling alone, it's fine!"

Pearl, who's scroll was already half out, raised an eyebrow. "So you're trying to get to Vale… all by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"

Jaune didn't get what Pearl was trying to get at, "Why would I…?"

"Well…"

"Wow, Jaune. You must be a pretty brave guy to go out into Grimm infested forests on a several thousand-mile journey solo." Lyn had an impressed look on her face that would normally get Jaune to feel pretty awesome for impressing a member of the opposite gender. It was unfortunate that the sense of dread that now enveloped him overpowered it to a large degree.

Grimm-infested?!

He didn't know Grimm were in that forest!

It was possible that his father had something to do with that, however, his constant patrols of the forest bordering their own little town resulted in no interaction with the Creatures of the Grimm so Jaune just _assumed_ there were no Grimm!

He could have died… what would his family have thought if their only son - who left the household without a word - was found dead a week later mauled by Beowolves?

His mother and sisters would weep. Especially poor Amber, he made a promise to her specifically. His father would take back his sword as a grim reminder about how he was too weak to prevent his idiot son from-

"Jaune?" Lyn's face was now right in front of the blond boy's, "You okay? Looks like you saw your life flash before your eyes or something."

He blinked once.

Then screamed.

"Hoo-WAAAHH! Oof!" The young teen pushed himself backward with enough force to tilt over the chair he was sat on. The back of his head gave the wooden floor an especially strong high-five.

"Hoo-"

"-Wah?" The two females in the room questioned.

Luckily, though, if they saw how red his face was - he could chalk it up to the blood rushing to his head.

/-/

The rest of the day went without a hitch.

Pearl wasn't kidding when she said people would know better than to bother them. In fact, they seemed to get a bunch of free stuff as both Lyn and her aunt appeared to be prominent figures in the town's community. Both of them talked about their future plans in more detail, Jaune's sisters (much to his own dismay) and Lyn's inn stories about some of their most… interesting patrons.

The end of the day was approaching, evidenced by the already set sun and the rise of its broken sister in the cool night sky.

"We're home!" Lyn exclaimed, literally kicking down the double doors that lead into the inn.

Jaune stepped back in surprise but proceeded to follow behind Lyn's confident stride, holding supplies and groceries alike in his right arm

"Hey, Lyn!"

"Lyn! How you doing?

"I've missed you so much… don't tell your aunt this, but the way you make those meat pies is way better than her's."

"Wow… you sure are popular, huh?" Jaune observed from his spot behind the local star, bobbing and weaving through tables.

"It's nothing really," Lyn scratched her cheek with her free hand, the other one busy holding a bag of groceries as they made their way into the kitchen. "It's a town where everyone knows everyone. We aren't all bad people, some just don't take to kindly to outsiders."

Putting some groceries down on the kitchen countertop, Jaune couldn't help but sweat a little. "Yeah… I think I know." The brunette giggled slightly, giving Jaune some weird feeling heebie-jeebies in the pits of his stomach.

Pearl looked back at the two, after stowing something away in the oven to cook. "Ah! You're finally back. Did you get what you needed?"

"Uhuh," Lyn answered, "we got Jaune's supplies and your groceries." Pointing to each respective group of items respectively. Pearl nodded.

"Alright then. I'll go wait some tables, will you two be fine for the rest of the night?"

"Course, Aunt!"

"I'll leave you two to it then." With that, the older woman waved her goodbyes and dove into the mess of chattering people scattered across the inn's hall.

"Thanks for everything today, Lyn. But I think… _yawn… _I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, alright then. Goodnight, Jaune." Lyn took a step closer and slowly wrapped her arms around the teen, "Today was fun. Excluding the whole almost dying part, hah…"

_Holy crap. Is this what Dad meant by second base?_

So, in all of the wisdom his father gave him, responded to the best of his ability. "**_I_**_-"_

What a time for your voice to crack.

Lyn stepped back, linking her arms behind her back and her golden eyes couldn't meet Jaune's sapphire ones. Her face also adorned a small blush, her whole demeanour contrasting her constantly outgoing attitude from earlier in the day.

…

"I-I think I'm going to head to my room."

…

"That's probably for the best. Sweet dreams, Jaune."

Slowly but surely, he made his way out of the kitchen, and once he was completely sure he was out of sight, the flustered boy darted to the safety of his room. Up the stairs and into the back of the inn.

In his rush, he earnt the stares of many patrons - including Pearl, who was politely trying to excuse herself from being hit on by a rough-looking man in a tacky, tattered cape a few moments prior.

Swiftly, the door shut as quick as it was open and Jaune jumped onto the actual, real-life bed and shoved his face into his pillow and started screaming.

Eventually, he gave up and turned around to look at the ceiling, moonlight filling the room from the window adjacent to his bed. His splinted hand came up into view and the teen stared at it, lost in thought.

_Sweet dreams, Jaune._

His healthy hand came to palm his face in an effort to hide the embarrassment from himself, hoping that the relative darkness of the room coupled with his hand would prevent the red coming to his face.

It worked, but didn't prevent quiet screams from escaping from his mouth.

Why did she have to say it like that…?

At this rate, Jaune will have way more than a _sweet_ dream.

Sighing, Jaune didn't bother to change out of his favourite hoodie and jeans, instead opting to get under the covers as he was to get to the next day as quickly as possible.

Maybe he'll spend a little longer in this town than he expected.

/-/

Awaking from his slumber, Jaune threw the duvet off of him - heat rushing across his body so much so that he woke up entirely. His room was brightly lit from the sunlight that shone through the window.

Expect it wasn't sunlight.

It was fire.

Rushing to his feet, Jaune scanned the room - seeing that his sword lay against the desk that held his backpack and armour scattered across the surface. What drew his attention more was the wall opposite of his was beginning to light aflame.

No time to strap on his armour or have potential deadweight in his backpack, the Arc took his family blade and bolted out of the door of his room and stopped before going down the stairs, once more surveying the sight. The tables were upturned and plates and cutlery were dispersed, broken, across the ground.

There was no sight of Pearl, nor Lyn.

Screams echoed from outside, prompting Jaune to snap his head to look through the gaping hole in the wall. He couldn't see through it too clearly from his angle, so he made his way down the stairs three steps at a time to view what awaited him outside.

It was hell.

His father would sometimes, very rarely, talk about hell. War was hell. The battlefield was hell. Maybe it was all an effort to push his children away from the lifestyle he had.

So much for that.

The majority of buildings were either smashed into or completely toppled, giving a view of behind it - more buildings either toppled or crumbling. Anything that could be combustible was ablaze. Running through the streets, Jaune saw stalls that he and Lyn had visited up in flames and various features of the town covered in red.

Blood.

Its mention wasn't much by itself, but seeing it - and thinking of who's it could have been - shook the young teen to his core. Was it the caring old lady that told Jaune and Lyn about her newly-born granddaughter while wrapping up an assortment of fruits? Or perhaps it was the young man aspiring to become an engineer, working a stall as a side-job to pay for his school tuition? Gods forbid it was one of the little children who were playing ball on the cobblestone pavement…

A shrill cry broke Jaune out of his inner turmoil. "_HELP!_" It was one he came to recognise after a second.

Lyn's aunt, Pearl.

Soon enough, his head snapped towards the sound. Pearl was knocked onto her behind, frantically attempting to scramble backwards - only to slam her back into a wall. Not brave enough to take away her eyes from the crimson-red orbs that pierced through her, she instead bore directly into them in a manner of stern acceptance. The coal, wolf-like creature before it released a low growl, raising a claw to the air ready for a fatal blow that would surely rip any normal person apart.

Jaune was frozen in place, helpless to save the woman who showed him nothing but accepting kindness and leaving her to an eternal fate in the form of death. His splinted hand ached.

That's what he thought, at least.

Completely unknowingly to himself, Jaune found Crocea Mors was drawn to intercept the boned, ivory edge that threatened Pearl's life only seconds ago.

"Jaune?! W-What are you doing here?"

"I-Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save you…" Easier said than done when a Grimm is staring you down, slowly overpowering you in a deadlock. Especially so when said Grimm let out an ear-splitting roar point-blank at your face, leaving you in a daze visually _and_ audibly. It didn't help the initial impact literally made his own bones vibrate and cry out in their own way of pain.

_Remember what Dad reluctantly taught you, Jaune…_

_"There may be a time where I'm not here to protect you and your sisters Jaune. If, and I mean if, it comes down to it - you need to be able to become a stand-in for me." _Nicholas Arc did not want his children to be out fighting wars and campaigns against the Grimm, but he would be a fool if he were to leave them vulnerable in a case where he himself was unavailable.

It sure was unlucky that, at the time, Jaune didn't take those lessons very seriously.

Video games and trying to make friends were more of his goals at the age his father decided to impart combat wisdom onto him, much to the dismay of his current situation.

However, it was all he currently had to go on.

Gritting his teeth, Jaune tilted his blade to slide the claw off of the surface of his sword. Surprised by the sudden change in its arm's momentum, the Beowolf stumbled forward as its claw was slammed into the ground by the teen's boot.

_Deflect, Disarm, Kill._ His father's repeated motto during the limited training interactions he and his son had. _"Remove the danger from its source, then remove the source entirely."_

With a primal roar of his own, Jaune swung Crocea Mors in his primary hand - aiming to sever the black limb of the wolf. The revolting sound of flesh was dug into as a powerful cut dug into the meat of the creature. Crocea Mors was now stuck halfway between the arm of a Beowolf; the hide much stronger than Jaune had once expected.

Tugging at the silver heirloom, Crocea Mors came free of her monstrous prison before coming back down even mightier, this time completely lopping off the appendage.

The Beowolf staggered backwards and howled in what Jaune could only assume to be pain, the jet-black mass underneath his shoe already turning to dust. His only chance was now, there was no time for him to waste.

Charging in recklessly, Crocea Mors spun as her master did, shattering the white mask - and cutting fruitfully behind it as well - in a backward spinning slash aimed to the upper right of the blond.

Jaune was left with a scattering corpse, a saved woman, a newfound sense of determination and a whole lot of adrenaline leaving his bloodstream.

"Jaune… you…"

"We have to get out of here." His blond hair was matted in specs of black dust that didn't seem to want to disintegrate and waved in the strong winds that blew the thick smoke of the raging fires around them into their faces. But in the middle of the chaos, Jaune reached out his hand to save somebody he was undeniably indebted too - not like it mattered to him whether or not he owed them anything anyway.

"Of course… Lyn! Jaune, have you seen Lyn?" Pearl's outburst was sudden, after she took Jaune's hand and he helped the woman to stand on her own two feet.

"No, I thought you would have known?"

She shook her head, "We were together at first, running away with the others at the inn, but then she broke off from me saying you were still in your room. I tried to go after her but the Grimm, they…"

Was Lyn headed towards to inn then?

"Pearl, is that you?" Turning around, Jaune was met with a dozen pairs of eyes staring at the duo. The group held pitchforks and torches, pretty stereotypical for a mob - Jaune thought, but desperate times and all. "We're headed to the town's emergency escape passage, come with us." Murmurs of agreement echoed through the crowd.

The brunette in question opened her mouth, only for the words not to come out. She closed it again and looked directly into Jaune's eyes, conflicted and brimming with worry and hope alike.

Words left from his mouth before he even had time to think about how to respond, "I'll find Lyn. Get to safety."

It was enough for Pearl to give Jaune a tight hug, whispering, "Please… stay safe," into the bunny of Jaune's exposed hoodie. Backing off, Pearl nodded to the group's leader and they all ran towards where the blond assumed the exit to this hellhole was - none of them looking back.

Now with his own thoughts, cerulean orbs were drawn to the attractive steel of Crocea Mors.

_Damn it!_ Jaune inwardly cursed.

His father was right; the battlefield really was hell… taking out a single Beowolf had already drained everything the boy had in him. But to him, it was well worth the life saved.

Hopefully, he could make it at least two.

Dashing through the streets he ran past not five minutes ago, he came to the inn entrance to see something he wished he hadn't.

Lyn's sweatshirt, part of it ripped, stained in a pool of its own blood that most definitely was not there when Jaune first left. Thank the Gods, there was no body, no sight of a poor girl being mauled; he was already about to throw up, barely able to contain the rising bile. Jaune couldn't even notice the splint she had treated him had slipped out foregoing all of the commotion and running.

Fading memories of yesterday were fleeing Jaune's mind. Her carrying him to safety, the undeniable determination she had to try save someone she had just met, the way they just clicked while going out for supplies, her smile, her touch.

And tears ran down Jaune's eyes, salty and wet.

An all too familiar growl evaporated those tears and replaced them with fire. It was the Grimm's fault. _All _of it. The pain, the destruction, the misery. Anger rose in Jaune, creating an inferno within his soul - caged in its uncertainty.

But it couldn't break free.

Snouts and maws were raised in the air alike, alert to the sudden spike in negative energy filling the atmosphere. In a matter of mere seconds, every exit was cut of by a monster of some sort. Both Ursai and Beowolves zero-in on their small, blond target - red eyes out for blood.

Jaune couldn't care less.

Resolved, her sheathe became his shield in his broken hand - while the other tightened on the royal hilt of her other half.

He'd make them pay.

/-/

Welp.

This has gone to shit real quick.

The White Fang were moving a lot faster than he predicted. Taking a small break in a nearby village wouldn't hurt, he thought. Sienna wouldn't attack a frontier settlement like this for no reason, he thought. What would Ozpin say…

He'd deal with Oz later.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he managed to stave away oncoming Grimm from a group of around twelve or so people to a secret exit of sorts. He could very well fly instead of using his stupid real-man legs, but getting a surprise pecking from one of the Giant Nevermore in the sky wasn't exactly on his list of to-do; with the chaos, it wouldn't do too well to disturb the airspace the Grimm were taking up.

Loud roars reverberated across the smoke-filled night air.

Except these sounded like they came from a person.

With a swift change in direction, Qrow Branwen hopped across the buildings to the presumed origin of the-

"Ho-ly shit…"

It was a teen who didn't seem too dissimilar in age to his eldest niece. The more compelling observation was that he was wallowing in a pool of crimson that continued to grow slowly.

Qrow landed with little to no sound, making his way next to the boy to see his eyes were closed lightly and covered in blood that dripped from his head. Scanning the rest of his body, the huntsman noticed several cuts in his attire where flesh was also sliced beneath. Some were deep, others barely a scrape. Moreover, the blond kid's left hand was mangled beyond belief, twisted in ways that shouldn't have been possible if there were any bones there at all.

Closing his eyes, Qrow began to try sense anything he could surrounding the boy's soul.

…

Nothing. He didn't have Aura. Though…

Looking to the street ways surrounding, dissipating corpses of two or three Beowolves and an Ursa littered the paths. This kid was a real trooper taking on all these Grimm without Aura of all things.

Next, Qrow's gaze was drawn to the sword that lay on the ground next to him. "Holy God damn mother of Salem… there's no way…" Snapping his head across different sets of debris and rubble, some of it still on fire, Qrow found what he was looking for.

An all too familiar shield with an all too familiar crest on it. Oz was gonna freak if he heard about this. Nicholas was gonna freak if he heard about this.

Now, there were two options here. Three, actually:

One: Let the kid die. Nicholas found out Qrow was on a mission that was coincidentally the death place of his son. Qrow would get a surprise visit - no matter _where_ he flew too - and suddenly go missing-in-action.

Two: Save the kid and give him back to Nicholas. He would owe him one but still refuse to come back to Beacon. However, Ozpin would lose yet another Arc, potentially leading to the death of his current reincarnation and/or the end of the world.

Three: Save the kid and get him into Beacon, Ozpin would have an Arc back and Nicholas wouldn't _kill_ Qrow, per se… maybe smack him around a little bit. He could trust the man to not launch a full-scale operation on the Academy to get his son back, couldn't he?

Hell, did Nicholas even know where this kid was?

_This is fifty shades of fucked-up…_

Out of all the options, getting into a scuffle with an old classmate and only having the _potential_ of Beacon Academy being heisted seemed like the most favourable; Qrow just had to say, "Fuck it. After this, I'll barely have enough Aura to protect myself from getting a hangover - let alone a Grimm." He retracted Harbinger to its holster position and put a hand on the dying boy's shoulder.

_"For it is in time that we find our purpose. Through it, we become plagued with memories of regret but we can only hope to rise above all. So, unshackle your soul and reach to what you will never acquire; to protect others, you must shield yourself foremost."_

As the chant ended, the body of the boy erupted in a blinding, bright light - filling the world with colour for a moment before the hellish landscape returned to its original form. Regularly, when somebody has their Aura unlocked, the surrounding area becomes devoid of colour as the soul takes otherworldly energies to break its chains.

Well, it's what Ozpin told him offhandedly one time while Qrow was just chilling in his office. Just a random nugget of knowledge he spouted out for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to appear wise, Qrow would hazard a guess.

But whoever this Arc kid was, his soul definitely had a lot more to give as opposed to take.

A thunderous screech pierced the night sky. "What even in all the seven rings of hell is that..?" Qrow looked up at the demonic beast that seemed to ride atop a god damn monster-horse. It wasn't `demonic` in the sense that all Grimm were demonic, it was more like it looked like an actual devil of myth - horns and all. The horse wasn't much better to look at either, ominous smoke rising from what should have been its mane.

In any case, Qrow was no longer in any position to fight. His hands were tied up with a bloody, blond and beat-up rope while he felt Aura essentially nosedive into critical levels with the stunt he pulled. Luckily for both of them, it hadn't seemed to notice them and was only attracted to the area's general negativity. Guess it was now or never.

Qrow preferred now.

With raw strength, Qrow hopped through the air and onto the rooftops, aiming to head someways into the forest, think happy thoughts and hope for the best. "Save… her…" The now-alive corpse in his hand spoke weakly. His eyes were half-closed due to the sheer amount of blood that ran across them earlier. On the topic of blood, the greying huntsman noticed the cuts and wounds on his body were all completely closed

"No-can-do. Aura's out. If you want those claws somewhere _where they shouldn't_ be in my body you can keep asking, but I can't say I'm currently willing." He would have to leave Nicholas' family blade here too, no time to carry it along with both the boy and his own weapon.

"I… promis…ed…"

"Kid?" Looks like he was out again. Did he make a promise to save someone, then? Huh. Qrow sent a quick look to the streets below him. He wasn't lying when he said it was stupidly dangerous. He _would_ die if he went down there, the kid following him soon after. He made promises of his own as well and knew for a fact he couldn't keep them if he was reduced to a feathery cadaver.

For now, though, as he now lept through treetops - leaving the burning world behind them, Qrow had to make a few phone calls to HQ.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Hm. Making building up characters for just for something like this to happen? Honestly, I always found it weird in media.**

**I contemplated whether or not I should add a scene of Jaune appearing unto Beacon after the timeskip, but I'll save it for the start of the next chapter. Wonder how people feel about this prologue. I tried something new and hope people will like it. As Senku from `Dr. Stone`says: `Try, try, try, try, try and try again.`.**

**At least until it works.**

**Next chapter we see our hero arrive at Beacon! Can't wait to write that...**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Beacon Academy

**Author's Notes:**

**Here we get my attempt at writing Yang and Ruby for the first time. I hope it goes well. Also an attempt at splicing a Qrowment into the middle of the chapter.**

**One or two more chapters of pre-Initiation to go.**

**I also want to be able to portray Jaune to differ from canon. Obviously, since he's spent time with Qrow, he's not going to be too green. Then again, a year isn't too long in the grand scheme of things, therefore he should retain a semblance of goofiness that Jaune is normally written in.**

* * *

Woah... the Tower of Beacon looked amazing from afar, even as just a silhouette, but up close... it was breathtaking!

Ruby still couldn't believe that _the_ Professor Ozpin had let her into his Academy a whole two years early, it was a dream come true for the little red-hooded girl. The only thing keeping her grounded in reality was the crushing form of her older sister Yang Xiao-Long - who was quite literally crushing her.

"I can't believe my little sister's coming to Beacon with me! Ohhhhh, I'm so proud…"

"Erk… Yang, please stop…"

"What? Is an older sister not allowed to show her dear younger sister how much she loves her? Everyone's gonna think you're totally the bee's knees!"

"She can, but I'd rather not you suffocate me while you do..."Ruby said, aptly ignoring the knees comment. At her words, the taller girl dropped Ruby from her tight embrace and placed her hands at her hips.

"Sorry Rubes," Yang apologised. "Was that a little too tight for ya?"

It was, but that wasn't the most pressing factor of the hug. Ruby drew her silver eyes to meet the large twins her older sister had that caused her the pain. Fah, those were totally a pain to Yang, weren't they? They had to be, being so… so… _large._

Ruby wasn't jealous at all...

"Whatcha looking at Ruby? Ruby?" A perplexed expression remained on Yang's face until she followed the younger girl's line of sight, the expression swapping to a mocking grin. "Oh… I see." Yang kept her hands on her hips while leaning closer into her sister. "I wouldn't worry _too_ much, Rubes, you got time."

"I-I drink milk! Waaaaah!" Yang was right, she had time to grow... her sister was two years older than her after all. Ruby Rose took off at the speed of sound, leaving petals in her wake. It looked as though the airship they were traveling on had long since touched down, prompting Ruby to use her Semblance to escape her crippling insecurities about her body as she ran towards the school.

Yang reached out her hand in an attempt to stop her sister, "Ruby, wait!" Even though she knew that Ruby was long gone, it didn't stop her from trying. "Okay, so maybe I took it _little _too far... heh, little." Shaking her head, the blonde made to catch up. "Rubes, wait up!"

/-/

Stupid Yang, stupid boobs, stupid knees...

Today was supposed to be a great occasion where Ruby Rose would start her journey on becoming a fantastic Huntress, yet it was all ruined because her body refused to grow. The red-tinted brunette wondered if the cafeteria would serve milk at every meal. Unfortunately for her, this cost her precious few seconds of attention that could have been used to avoid the figure clad in white inspecting her large array of suitcases.

Said figure looked up far too late to brace herself for the oncoming projectile, "Hold on-!"

_CRAAAAASH_

_KABOOOM_

"Ugh..." What was left of the carnage was a crater in the floor and a red and white tangled mess on the floor. "Omigosh! I am so sorry, I didn't see you there!" Ruby was up in an instant and offered her ash-covered hand to the pretty girl on the floor. Her light blue eyes looked at it before she grimaced and instead chose to stand up by herself and dust her once pristine dress, now splotched in black.

"I wouldn't expect you to if you were moving at the speed of a bullhead..." She said quietly.

Ruby lit up; she didn't expect her to be so understanding! Some people just didn't get how hard it is to maneuver at the speed she could reach with her Semblance. Luckily for her, this nice princess lady knew what was up - she would have to ask her about her own Semblance later.

"Which brings up the question on _why_ you were moving at the speed of a bullhead on a _public footpath! _What were you thinking you dolt?!"

"Bwah?"

"Your conduct is highly inconsiderate and outright dangerous! Not to mention you just caused about two-thousand lien's worth of dust to explode right on top of us! You're lucky that I'm not going to ask you for compensation or anything of the like." Constipation? Two-thousand lien? She didn't have that kind of cash! And why did this girl turn from nice to nasty just like that? Ruby was just done internally singing her praises too...

Ruby didn't think there was a way out of this either, her eyes darted around and met the alluring amber orbs of a girl clad in black and a cute little bow, but she quickly returned to whatever book she was reading and slowly walked away.

"Noooo..."

"No? I think you should start off by saying `thank you` and then apologising, you clutz!"

Somebody save her...

"Hah...hah... I finally caught up to you..."

/-/

He was finally here. Beacon Academy. After all the crap he just had to pull to get himself here, Jaune would argue that it almost wasn't worth it.

Pah, who was he kidding? He was at _the_ Beacon Academy, home to some of the best huntsman in all of Remnant!

Even after the little debacle he got into in Forever Fall, Crocea Mors felt fresh and at home on his metal arm bracer. Vul had been a real piece of work about how he would get to Beacon.

`_For your last test, you gotta make it to Beacon from Forever Fall. Alright, see ya._ `

It wasn't exactly what he said, but the general meaning definitely translated over. To be honest, the blond was sure that he just didn't want to deal with his little apprentice's shenanigans any more than he had to, which Jaune agreed to wholeheartedly vice versa. But a week in Forever Fall wasn't the worst send-off he could have given him; Jaune would count his blessings where he may.

Apart from _that_ whole incident… his back still felt sore from being scraped along the eternally orange floor of the forest...

However, that's all in the past and now he was ready to show the world what Jaune Arc was made of! So what if he had to traverse a mountain or two and a few rivers just to get all the way up here?

Due to his… _special_ circumstances of arrival, Jaune had climbed up halfway along the long pathway towards the Academy proper - twigs in his hair and scrapes on his skin. He prepared to take his first step on the footpath before almost falling flat on his face due to a sudden burst of wind and... rose petals? The only thing saving his face getting a juicy kiss from the ground was instead the highly tactical movement of his forehead so it would instead receive the blow, which - despite his vast amount of Aura - was already forming a small, purple bump on his head.

"Ow, fuck!"

It still hurt like a bitch, too.

What the hell was that?

_CRAAAAASH_

_KABOOOM_

_Maybe if I got my head off the floor I'd get my answer._

Following the instructions of his inner-self conscience, Jaune tore his head from its extremely comfortable spot on the ground to look at the unfolded chaos. What he saw was a young-looking girl in an edgy-looking outfit and _the_ most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life.

"Noooo…" The walking rose explosion complained for whatever reason.

"No? I think you should start off by saying `thank you` and then apologising, you clutz!" The beautiful woman replied.

Too bad she seemed like a huge bitch.

The younger girl's interestingly silver eyes were wildly searching for something, possibly anything, to get her out of what Jaune assumed to be a highly uncomfortable conversation that she would rather not be having. Maybe the first person he had to save at Beacon Academy didn't have to be in the jaws of a Beowolf or on the thin line of potential death.

_Beggars can't be choosers, I guess. _Jaune had to start his huntsman journey somewhere, after all.

Alright, straps on his leather armour? Little loose. He reached over to his sides and fastened each one - trekking Forever Fall did that to you, he supposed. Crocea Mors? Jaune tapped the golden pommel. Where she belongs. Earring? He began to pat around his body, steadily increasing in speed once he couldn't feel the item anywhere. Someone may have thought he had strapped bongos onto his body and wouldn't have given him a second glance. Huntsmen these days and their weapons.

Oh gods. Had he really dropped them in Forever Fall? Screw killer robots.

"Nope, not there... not there, either... come on, really?" Trust his mentor's parting gift to go missing like that. Opening the several pouches adorning the blond's multiple belts across his torso and pants - to no avail - Jaune let out a frustrated sigh, only to notice the jingle under his ear.

"Oh," he said, "that's _is_ where earrings go."

Still, screw killer robots. In any case, Jaune had a scene to cut into.

Putting on a facade of exhaustion coupled with the fact he dashed over to the scene at commendable speeds brought upon a convincing act to the two. A dirty, rugged blonde in leather rags and a bird's nest for a head of hair? Seems pretty severe for a friend chasing his particularly fast companion.

As Jaune put his hands on his knees he panted out, "Hah… I finally caught up to you…" he made to address the girl in red but came to the sudden realization that he had no idea what her name was. In a desperate attempt to both make him not look like an idiot and still save the girl he said the first thing that came to mind, "Rose…?" He squeaked out.

Her hood bounced as she tilted her head, "…Do I know you?"

The other girl raised an eyebrow, "Do you need help?"

"Me?" Jaune managed to look confused. "Nope, I'm good." He turned to meet the girl in red once more, eyes wide and begging.

_Take a hint, damn it! This is your ass I'm trying to save here._

"You shouldn't just take off like that," Jaune ignored her - instead silently pleading she would help him out through grit teeth. "Someone could get hurt. I can't _save_ you all the time, you know?"

"_Oh…_" The girl appeared to understand something, putting a finger next to her mouth. "Sorry… _John_, It won't happen again, I promise!"

John, really?

In any case, the last-ditch message seemed to have reached its target. Taking her behind the shoulders, Jaune started to push the girl away from the snow-white woman. She wasn't making it any easier by standing ramrod straight with her heels in the ground. "Thanks a lot for taking care of her, she's a real clutz - I know."

"Hey! I'm not that bad… I don't think I am, anyway…"

His target widened her pretty sky-blue eyes, taken aback at the scene, before they hardened into ice again. Suddenly, she started rummaging around her skirt pockets for something. "Hmph. At least take this and make sure that your friend over there takes good note of it."

"I'm right here, you know…"

The woman harrumphed, sharply turning her head - leaving her destroyed luggage and a large crater in the ground.

…

With the imminent threat gone, Jaune exhaled deeply and let go of the gothic girl's shoulders and crossed his arms. "_John? _Seriously?"

She pouted and held a light blush at her lack of creativity. "Look, it was in the heat of the moment okay? And it's not like you can talk anyway... like Rose? Doesn't take a genius to figure out how you got that one…"

"The funny thing it's pretty close to my actual name too."

"Wait, Rose or… no way, your name's John?!"

"What? No, it's _Jaune._"

"Oh… that's such a coincidence since Rose is actually my name! Or last name at least…" She mumbled. "I'm Ruby, by the way, Ruby Rose!"

"Wow, I didn't know I was that amazing… alright, _Rose_, I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue, ladies love it."

"…Do they though?" Ruby asked skeptically.

_Damn it! Vul, you bastard, that makes both you and my dad suggesters of this accursed line_. Though maybe the way how he rolled around on the floor, laughing, wasn't the most reassuring sight.

Upon the sight of her newfound friend silently staring at a shaking fist with barely constrained fury, Ruby asked, "Hey, are you alright?"

"Never been better," Jaune answered, sporting a blush of his own under the embarrassment of having made himself look like an idiot. "Just peachy."

"So… you wanna start walking?"

They had to make it into the actual building to become students, didn't they? With no better option, Jaune agreed with the little girl's request. "Lead the way, m'lady."

Ruby giggled.

/-/

"Holy crap. You mean you _made_ that thing?" Jaune was in absolute awe (or terror, he had yet to decide) at the sight of a giant farming tool made to instead cut the heads off Grimm. The duo had walked for around, ten minutes and detouring off of the main path inside of the academy. Ruby slammed her weapon into the ground, making Jaune flinch back slightly at how large it was.

"Yeah! It's also a high impact sniper rifle." Ruby stated proudly.

Jaune could only compute so much, he was a mere human after all, "So it's a scythe… that's a gun."

"Yes."

"That's crazy…" Furthermore, the young blonde only knew of one other person to ever use something as stupidly dangerous as a scythe as a weapon. He secretly hoped she didn't have a cripplingly unhealthy addiction to any sort of substances because then that would be _way_ too much of a coincidence. "…as in _actually_ mad, are you mad?"

"What? Noooo…" She didn't sound all too convinced by herself. "Anyway, his name is Crescent Rose and he's super _awesome! _What's your weapon?"

Jaune contemplated telling his new friend more than she needed to know, ultimately going against the thought. You never know when you're going to need to get the jump on someone. Not that he planned to give Ruby a nasty surprise or anything, she seemed way too nice and kind-hearted and the way she lost herself talking about weapons was reminiscent of an old friend; he was sure they were going to get along just fine.

"Hm… I got this sword." Jaune unsheathed Crocea Mors from her home behind his forearm, pointedly not revealing her shield-half or mecha-shifting any of the tools on his crooked belt.

"That's… so cool!" Hold up, what did she just say? Ruby had already holstered Crescent Rose and burst into a coagulation of petals, appearing next to Jaune in less time than he had to blink. "It looks like the weight is perfectly balanced across the blade and the edge still seems razor-sharp despite it looking so old! It doesn't even have any sort of rust or blemish across the steel! Can I touch it?"

She could tell all of that from just looking at it? It was incredible, and also all true so Jaune had to wonder what she would reveal to him if she had to opportunity to hold it. "Go nuts, Ruby." He allowed, offering the hilt to her.

Ruby squealed in delight as she snatched the blade from his hands, running her fingers across the smooth metal. "It's so pretty… I swear, it's almost like it has a soul of its own!"

"Hah… wouldn't that be absolutely crazy, right?"

"Yeah, it not even my precious Crescent Rose has a soul of its own… unfortunately… that reminds me! What do you call it?"

"Her. Her name is Crocea Mors." Respectfully, Ruby handed back Crocea Mors and – swiftly sheathing her – Jaune nodded to her in thanks. "She's a family heirloom, used by my father and my father's father and his father before him. Somewhere along the line, it was used in the Great War to save loads of people."

"That explains it then, gotta love the vintage ones eh?" Ruby nudged Jaune's side with her elbow playfully.

"Yeah." The girl next to him smiled brightly and Jaune couldn't help but stare into those silver eyes of hers.

"W-what? Do I have something on my face?"

"It's just your eyes." He unconsciously leaned inwards a little bit, unaware of how Ruby tried to lean away with her feet still firmly planted on the floor. "They're… interesting." Jaune caught himself before he got any closer to the poor girl's face, spluttering with red adorning his face. "Gah! Sorry…"

_Great job, Jaune. Fifteen minutes in and you're already looking like a massive creep!_

"Naw, we're good…" Jaune couldn't help but disagree but thanked Ruby internally while simultaneously smashing his head against a metaphysical wall. "So… do you know where we're going?"

"No."

"I was following you!"

Surprised at his friend's bold words Jaune was offended, "How could you have followed me if I told you to lead the way?!" He gestured himself tipping an imaginary hat, linking back to his funny line earlier, "Remember?"

"I don't know!" Ruby waved her hands frantically. "W-w-w-where are we supposed to go? What if we're late!?"

Grabbing her by the hand, Jaune took off at speeds rivalling Ruby's semblance, "Less talk, more run!"

The awkward mood didn't last long, which Jaune was thankful for.

* * *

_One year ago, after the White Fang raid on a Mistrali frontier town_

* * *

Twittering of birds woke him up. What a nightmare… Jaune wondered what he and Lyn would do today. Maybe they'd- "AHHHHH! OW!" His blond head of hair skyrocketed upwards, slamming into the forehead of someone else. Who wouldn't if the first thing they saw in the morning were two soul-piercing, bloodshot and crimson eyes?

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK, KID!?"

"WELL MAYBE DON'T PUT YOUR FACE RIGHT ABOVE MINE WHILE I'M SLEEPING! Wait... WHY THE HELL WAS YOUR FACE RIGHT ABOVE MINE WHILE I WAS SLEEPING?!"

"I-I don't know. Just wanted to, I guess." The head-butt target sounded genuinely confused, rubbing the spot where he was rightfully assaulted. "Why was I doing that…?

"I think I need an adult…"

"I am an adult."

"Who even are you?" They were in a forest, an undiscernible location to him, generic trees and various greenery around them. "Are we still in Mistral?"

"Just your friendly neighborhood Mr. Saivyorlife. You haven't thanked me yet, by the way."

"Why would I thank you for something I don't even remember?"

"You mean you _don't _remember the raging fires, broken buildings, hulking Grimm?"

"Yeah, of course I do, but it was just a… nightmare. Gods, you're telling me that all happened?!" Oh Gods, oh Gods; it was all real? So he did manage to kill that Grimm and save Pearl. He remembered massacring as many as he could in a broken rage at Lyn's... Lyn's death.

It made him want to throw up.

Sensing the teen's sudden grief, the man stood up from his position on the floor after receiving that painful knock on the head and his expression grew neutral. He made no attempt to comfort the weeping boy but instead commanded, "Come on, let's get moving."

Jaune was filled to the brim with unbridled rage, "What?! So after all of that - all that _death - _you decide to save me from my own demise and then just expect me to follow you? You should have just left me for dead. Probably would have been better if I died like the rest."

"Say that again." The figure stopped walking, refusing to turn around. His gruff voice was a gravelly blade that scraped across Jaune's ears. A moment or two of silence prompted him to speak once more, "…I said, _say that again._"

Unwilling to back down, Jaune held onto his guns. "I should have died along with the rest of them…" He spat.

Without hesitation, the man grabbed Jaune by the edges of his hoodie and violently slammed him into one of the many trees that he was near. The force of it alone made leaves fall from the branches above and Jaune's gut threatened to spill. "Don't you _dare_ say that. I can't believe that _you _of all people would say that. I thought you wanted to be a huntsman!" Blood-red eyes bore deeply into sea-blue.

"H-how do you know-"

"And yet you sit down there on your ass and wish for death? How are you going to protect those who need protecting if you're lying dead in a ditch, huh?" He slammed Jaune into the bark of the tree again. "If you want to stop feeling the pain here," one of his hands removed their grip on his hood. His finger sharply pointed to his chest. "You need to get stronger here," his finger moved to the temple of his head. "And here," his hand gripped the side of the teen's arm - not helping Jaune's queasiness.

In a complete manner reversal, the fire in the man's eyes died and his overall grip loosened, lowering Jaune from the tree but still grabbing his hood tighter. "For people like you - for people like me… the death of others is a tool to make us stronger. So learn. And become strong. For your sake. And for the good of all the people on Remnant." His gaze slowly drifted to the flask beside his hip.

He scoffed, "Strength, huh…"

Jaune couldn't hold it in any longer.

The repeated shaking, prodding and brutal slamming had built up the sick feeling he had. All the way up to the point where he released the contents of his stomach all over the face of the man who - not just ten seconds ago - was screaming in his face about his childish whining. Streams of gut-chunks repeated splashed all over his beard, trailing down to his open dress-shirt and eventually piled up on the floor.

Covered in puke, the man opened his mouth to say something, "Ah-" which proved to be the worst mistake of his entire life.

Well second-worst at least, as just as Jaune thought it was all over, another jetstream of puke came pouring out of his mouth.

Guess where it ended up.

/-/

Flowing water was freezing on his face and hands as the blond cleaned himself up. Clad only in his boxers and that tacky red cape of his, his kidnapper was on his hands and knees shoving his face into the river, bubbles of air rising where he was. Hanging from a tree branch were the rest of his clothes, soaked but vomit-free.

Jaune had figured out Crocea Mors was missing, most likely back in the ruins of a town he never got the name of. Moreover, he didn't know where this strange man brought him or where he was in relation to the rest of the world so as it stood, he really had no choice _but_ to follow him or get attacked by stray Grimm. He figured he may as well get to know the half-naked man in a cape if he was going to be stuck with him for a while.

"You look kind of like a flasher dressed like that." Okay, Jaune, not the best start. You really should have just asked for his name or something, not insulted him right off the bat. Though, to his credit, it _is_ hard to like someone who's first impression was watching you while you slept and slamming you against a tree for sulking around like a baby.

He tore his head from the river and glared at the teen, who's legs were crossed on the bank, muttered something unintelligible and dove right back into the drink. He came back up and started walking over to the tree where his clothes were before sitting down and gesturing for Jaune to come over with a finger. No reason to to be incompliant, the teen made his way over and sat down on the opposite side of him.

"I, uh, didn't mean that flasher comment, by the way."

"Shut up, kid."

"Okay."

"I'm guessing you have a few questions, ask away." Was he for real? If he could ask anything he wanted, maybe he'd get a few answers about his situation.

"Who are you, really?"

The figure raised an eyebrow, "Don't ya it's a little rude to ask that without introducing yourself first? It's the least you can do after throwing up on me."

"That was your fault anyhow, if you didn't shake me around so much-"

A single finger came to his mouth to hush his words. "Do you want your answers?" As disconcerting as it was to have a half-naked man in a cape treat you like a little child, Jaune still nodded wearily. "Good. Now, why don't you introduce yourself."

"J-" His eldest sister's advice suddenly came in full force, echoing in his mind. Jaune found it fine to tell a cute girl and her aunt his real name but he thought that a man who essentially kidnapped him against his will who brought him into the middle of the forest was taking it a tad too far. "-Uwaaaaan."

"Juwaaaaan. Seriously?" Alright, he should have seen that coming. His alias was way too similar to his actual name in the first place. `Juwaaaaan` didn't know what universe that would have worked in.

Sighing in defeat, he conceded his real name, "It's Jaune. Jaune Arc." He admitted, not even bothering with his trademark line since, well, he just didn't swing that way. Not that there was anything wrong with being on that side of the fence, or anything.

The man on the other side of him scoffed.

"What?"

"Sorry. Just thought you were missing something there."

"How-?"

"You can call me… Vul." He said, cutting Jaune off.

Instantly, Jaune was skeptical. `Vul` sounded like some sort of edgy nickname someone would have over the C-Net. "That's not your real name, is it?"

_Damn, that sounded cool._

"Wow," he whistled. "Look at you, not as dumb as you let on, are we? No, it's not my real name and I don't plan on telling you it either. A guy like me needs his privacy." Well, that seemed highly unfair for Jaune; he just revealed his identity and had still no leads on who this guy was.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?"

"You've said it before. People like me. People like you. What does that mean?"

If `Vul` was surprised at the choice of question, he sure as hell didn't show it. His hipflask, halfway up to his mouth was placed back down on the grassy floor. "People like you and me… we're different from the average Joe. We were made to fight. Maybe once upon a time, for different things, but it doesn't change that fact that the minute that we were born, our purposes were decided by the sisters of Fate and Destiny. And it just so happens that your Destiny and my Destiny are intertwined like that. So lucky you, you're getting good ol' Vul here to show you the ropes."

It still didn't make much sense to Jaune. He wasn't made to fight; his father had barely taught him anything about the sword in the first place. Looking down toward the grass, Jaune pushed, "What do you know? About me? About Destiny and Fate and all this nonsense."

Vul moved his eyes from Jaune and nodded slowly, "A lot more than you think, kid. A lot more. I'd like to believe that one way or another, one year from now? You'd be attending Beacon with or without me in some far-away world."

Even if Jaune had once said that he'd go to Beacon himself, it was more blind hope than anything, "Yeah. Right."

"What else d'ya got for me, kid?"

"Are you a huntsman?"

"Psh. `_Am I a huntsman`, _of course I'm a damn huntsman. I got a sweet cape, a sweet weapon," He nodded to the large blade of steel lying next to his drying clothes, "_and_ a sweet face."

"That cape's kinda tacky though…"

"Say that again_._"

"Wait, a tacky cape-"

"Must. Not. Murder. The child."

"-were you the one that saved me in an alleyway in that town?"

Red eyes rolled, as if searching for an answer. "There are a lot of alleyways in the world kid. And a whole lotta beat up gangs. Could you be more specific?"

"Uh… you rubbed a guy's face in dog crap?"

"Oh," Vul snapped his ringed fingers. "Yeah, I remember that one. Holy cramoly, that was you? Daaamn, kid, they really did a number on you."

"Thanks for that."

"No problem."

"No- I meant that sarcas- you know what, whatever. Why'd you do it, save me, I mean?"

Vul crossed his arms and closed his eyes, "Well, as a _huntsman_ I think it's my job to protect the people. So if I see some random kid getting mugged in a dark alleyway, I think that's going to be one of many calls-to-action I'll take."

"I- that's a fair point, actually." An actually logical chain of reason. Jaune could safely admit he did not see that coming. Just as the teen opened his mouth to ask another one of his burning questions, he noticed the huntsman's joints popping quietly as he shuffled.

"Welp. This little game of twenty questions is going to have to get cut short." The gruff man stood, basically sliding into all of his clothes in a single, smooth and practiced motion.

It was almost as if he was experienced in the protocol of vomit-clothes.

He fixed the cuffs around the mid-ground of his forearms and holstered that menacing blade of his. "Let's go kid."

Jaune stood up and dusted the grass off of his jeans - this time following behind him, "Where are we going?"

Unbeknownst to the teen, the man who called himself `Vul` flashed a menacing grin.

"To train."

/-/

Panting breaths were the only thing coming out of Jaune's mouth as both he and Ruby managed to make their way into Beacon's Grand Hall with time to spare. `Grand` very masterfully described the space, the blond thought. Green banners displaying Beacon's very own insignia in white were hung around the walls. A mighty stage held only a singular microphone that showed no sign of recent use and speakers decorated the edges of the platform.

There were just _so_ many people here, hundreds - no thousands - of times more than in his little frontier village in the outback of Mistral. People of so many cultures, dressed in so many colours, wielding so many weapons… it was overwhelming, to say the least. Jaune thought Ruby would go to town on the variety of weapons here; she seemed like the type.

Speaking of Ruby, "Jaune… you can, uh, let go of my hand now."

"Huh?" Jaune didn't seem to understand as to what she was exactly referring too, "What do you mean?" Turning his head to look at Ruby, he saw that she was as red as her namesake; face somewhat a mix between a frown and `having been caught with her hand in the cookie jar`.

Though it looked like Jaune was caught with the 'Ruby's hand in his own'.

"Oh, uh, whoops. Sorry." He managed to reason.

"It's alright, you still haven't let go of my hand, by the way. I'd appreciate if you did that."

His hand appeared to have developed a sudden polarity against Ruby's hand, ejecting itself from its previous position while both parties eventually resorted to not wanting to look at each other. If the first incident between them was quickly dissolved, here's to hoping this one would too - Jaune believed.

"Hey! Ruby! Over here!" A disembodied, and loud, voice made clear through the crowd. "I saved you a spot!"

Ruby rushed forward to try and peek over the mass of bodies, proving fruitless due to her vertical disadvantages. Seeing this, Jaune decided to give her a non-physical hand this time due to the advantageously vertical nature of his body. Peering where Ruby could not, he spotted a long-maned blonde waving her arm in the air. She could obviously see her target while said target couldn't say the same.

"She's over there," Jaune informed the struggling girl. "I can lead you over there if you want."

"That's my sister, Yang! You'll love her, she's super nice; don't worry. Lead the way, my good sir," Ruby bowed.

"With pleasure," he returned.

Jaune could get used to her ability to wave the mood like that.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**I did enjoy writing Jaune and Qrow's interactions. There's just something to their dynamic, I dunno.**

**Why does Qrow call himself Vul in front of Jaune? Short (non-canon, sorta) answer: For shits and giggles. Guess why he chose that name. I don't think It'll be too hard.**

**Also, this was one of my shorter chapters - coming out at around 5.5k words without the notes. I want the average to be around 7-9k in the future, something that I adhered to with the first chapter at 8k words.**

**Sleepover when?**

**Soon.**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	3. Chapter 3: A Sleepover to Think Over

**Author's Notes:**

**Back at it again.**

**A little very early stage training of Jaune. Also yes, I would like to make it clear that Jaune doesn't have Crocea Mors, thank you.**

**We got some more interactions with the two sisters as well. In time, Jaune will develop with other members of the cast but right now Ruby - and by extention, Yang - will be focused on for now.**

**I would also like to thank all of the people who have kept up with this story. My other fic, `The Babysitter Arc` is sort of laying dormant because of the whole `completely original plot` thing that I lack the inert creativity to fully develop. The notes for what happens are actually on my desktop, but I just can't formulate it coherently into great detail - which is what caused me to develop the idea for this story.**

**It's not going anywhere any time soon, don't worry.**

**Once again, thank you for sticking around, and without further ado... enjoy.**

* * *

If you had told a fifteen-year-old Jaune that one year from now, he'd be training to be a hero with an accomplished huntsman - he would have laughed in your face, called you a plebian and continued playing Grimm Girls 4. There was _absolutely _no way sixteen-year-old Jaune would do something like that.

And fifteen-year-old Jaune was right.

Accomplished huntsman, pfft. Vul was a complete douchebag, not to mention an actually dysfunctional alcoholic. Or was it functional…? Didn't make a difference really, he still drank an actual truck-ton of hardass whiskey every day. Jaune knew it was too, he had tasted the stuff and it was absolutely _horrid_. And where did he even get the stuff?

It also was definitely not worth finding out, since Vul was able to find out from the scent of his flask that someone else had been using it.

Yes, his trainer was that freaky.

"H-how can you call this `training`?! Aieeee!" Jaune yelled, currently being chased by an, admittedly, moderately-sized Beowolf across the Mistrali forage with his new teacher up in the branches of the trees, following wherever he ran off too and mostly either laughing, drinking and spouting bits of wisdom.

Normally in that order, too. Currently, he was on the 'wisdom spouting' segment of the cycle, if it could even be called that.

"We can't exactly practice combat with your weapon since, well, it's missing and kicking the shit out of teenagers isn't high on my list of priorities."

"You mean- eep!" Jaune narrowly ducked a white claw, successfully losing a strand or two of yellow locks instead of the back of his head entirely. "Y-you mean that's on your list in the first place?!"

The raven-haired huntsman ignored his concern, "Plus, it wouldn't do you _that_ much good if your ass got handed to you every CQC session. Soooooo, I've decided to work on your conditioning. But I don't think that'll be a problem with those genes of yours…" Vul murmured something Jaune wasn't able to catch at the end, but trying to listen in almost got his ass a nice, new Beowolf jaw-shaped pattern.

The blond had been exerting himself fully for around a quarter of an hour, signs of fatigue slowly overcoming him as the adrenaline of having the very real threat of death looming over his hoodie's shoulders wore off. This is it. This is where he died.

Snarling, saliva flew through the air from the mouth of the approaching beast. Soon enough, Jaune would find peace in that very place so he decided to face the end like a man.

And by a man, Jaune meant he would trip over a small rock, turn around to see the pouncing monster and appropriately scream like a little girl.

Sharp steel shot through the open maw of the Beowolf, killing it instantly as it pierced the top of the head through to the dirt beneath. Pulling his blade, Vul gave a smug smirk to the quivering boy on the floor.

"Sorry, kid," he said. "Can't let you die just yet." Those words held a strange weight over Jaune's back. He forgot that Vul was a legitimate huntsman, and whether the blond liked it or not was a different story. The older man offered his hand to Jaune, brandishing that over-sized blade of his on a shoulder. Jaune took it gratefully.

Jaune let out a shaky breath he didn't even know he was holding, most of it coming out as a sob rather than a sigh. "…Thanks."

"But for real, a rock? You tripped over a rock. You're like the blonde chick from those all those crappy horror flicks, you know that? Halfway there, kid, grow a pair of tits and you'll the bill to a T." Vul blinked - noticing his own pun. "Heh, T."

Yeah, Jaune didn't put up a very convincing case otherwise, so he decided to stay silent and hang his head in shame. He couldn't even bring himself to call out his mentor's horrible taste in humor, let alone him laughing at his own jokes - no matter how pathetic it was.

"I said this was all for your conditioning," Vul chuckled, "but I can't say I was against hoping that you'd learn something else this exercise."

That interested Jaune. What else could have he learnt? Other than run away from the thing that hurts you, of course. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" The crimson-eyed huntsman started, turning sideways-on to Jaune but still facing forward passively, looking around for something. Perhaps _everything_. "Just because you don't have a weapon doesn't mean your defenseless. And I don't mean trying to box a damn Grimm," he lowered his voice, "I get enough of that at back at Tai's." Who even was that? Jaune attempted to interrupt, but the older man was quick to prevent it.

He continued, "You see, it's called a _battle_field for a reason."

"Isn't it because it's just a field where a battle takes place? Ow!"

"Idiot," Vul gave Jaune's head a solid chop, prompting the blond to caress his head with both hands to soothe the pain. "That kinda close-mindedness is what's gonna get you killed. No, it's cause everything inside of one can help you fight." As if to emphasise, he came up to the stone that tripped Jaune over and picked it up and began to inspect its surface.

"What about those dueling pits and sparing mats?" He'd watched his father a few times with his sisters, training the village's guard in his spare time. Not that it really mattered since no Grimm ever came near them in the first place.

"Psh," Vul made a scoffing noise, "those places are better-called _arenas_ or something. It's all for show. But even dueling pits have sand in them."

"But if you're saying…" Jaune shook his head. He really wasn't suggesting- "You can't be serious. You're saying that I should _throw_ sand at them?"

"Yep. Aim right for the eyes and it gets 'em the first time - don't expect it to work again in the same fight, though." Vul looked like he was reminiscing some past event, eyes drifting to the side before pausing and nodding, only to start again. "Works for Grimm too, trust me. Plus, you can throw a lot more than just sand, too…" He holstered his weapon and, with a grunt, he released the stone from his palm - the rock launched towards a tree in a violent rotation.

A steaming hole was freshly punctured through the thick wood. Jaune could only really flick back a look to his `trainer`, flat and disbelieving.

"Alright, I know I sounded hesitant about the sand but at least I could _do_ that. You're just showing off."

"Can't say that I ain't," admitted Vul. "But you get my point." He turned back around, hands on his hips and giving his new apprentice a sharp glare as he walked towards the blond.

"Look at me, kid. You got one year until the start of Beacon-" One year? It was that soon?! "-and you're gonna either be competing with or against, people who have spent the better end of a decade training for it at _least._ The only way you're gonna be able to run with the big dogs is by being able to think fast," Vul was now in front of the teen and placed a finger on Jaune's temple, "and think smart." His finger turned into a hand that lightly slapped the side of his head - a gesture the blond didn't appreciate much.

Backing away, his gaze had melted into a more familiar and loose one. "So keep a cool head and think things through before you leap. Just make sure that when you _do_ leap, it isn't too late." He unscrewed the lid on his flask and brought it up to his lips, only to pause. "Wonder where I can find an Ursa around here… eh, whatever." He took a hearty swig and started walking deeper into the forest.

Without prompt, Jaune stayed where he was; knowing Vul would be able to find his way back. And bring whatever beast he decided to `train` him with next. His eyes wandered to the rock shaped hole in the tree a dozen meters or so away.

Maybe he _could_ do that.

The sad thing was that he had to stay to find out.

And so, the countdown began. Let's see… one year? That meant that there were…

* * *

_12 Months to the Start of Beacon_

* * *

Think smart he said. Think clever he said. Keep…a cool… head…

"Who's this, Rubes?" The very buxom young lady asked her kid sister and very pointedly expecting every single inch of the new arrival with an almost animalistic determination. And not in the way that Jaune would have preferred.

It was more like a mother bear over her cub.

Jaune didn't know whether to be red in fear or embarrassment, but he felt like a piece of meat - for better, or for worse.

Ruby didn't seem to pick up on that. "This is Jaune! I met him after you uh... we..." Ruby coughed nervously, avoiding the need to share an important detail. "Anyway, he helped me out and we even…" the look in her eyes vanished, as blood came to her cheeks. "H-H-He showed me his sword, is all…"

"His _what?!_"

"My sword!" Jaune practically yelled, using up all the air in his lungs and earning looks of discontent from those around them. He could care less; there were more pressing matters to attend to! Ripping Crocea Mors from her sheathe, steel sheened in the hall's light. "M-My sword, Crocea Mors."

The fiery blonde that supposedly went by the name `Yang` didn't drop her glare, instead moving between Jaune and Ruby and claiming it as her spot. She crossed her arms menacingly under her chest and Jaune couldn't help but notice those large, round…

Gauntlets on her wrists.

Yellow and red, the accessories were too large and hence impractical to be solely just. Perhaps they were mecha-shifting weapons of a sort. But what exactly - was the real question. His lingering gaze didn't go unnoticed by Yang, unfortunately.

"Hey, buster," she growled. "My eyes are up here." Her mouth was formed in a scowl, pointed teeth and all, and her bright lilac eyes could have killed a Goliath with a single look.

Jaune was no Goliath.

"Ew, what a creep…"

"What is a guy like that doing here?"

"Disgusting."

Nor was he immune to public opinion.

"Hold on," Jaune had to at least try his hand at damage control, lest he wished for his school career to be over before it even started. What would his parents say? Gods forbid what Vul would say. "I-It's not what it looks like! Yang, tell theeeeee-" his voice lowered in pitch and volume, hanging onto that last syllable like his life depended on it. "-eeeeeeeem…" His eyes widened and Jaune could swear his pupils trembled.

Yang was smirking like she was happy with a job well done.

With the last of his resolve, Jaune had to say _something,_ "I-" he squeaked. Lilac orbs bore deep into the blond's soul. "…nevermind."

Yang scoffed.

Ruby gawked silently.

The white-haired girl from before stared with repulsion from behind her. "How… repugnant." When did she get here?

Swiftly turning around, the red-caped girl jumped back at the sight of her face. "It's you! The shouty girl!" Ruby covered her ears with her hands, "Are you here to shout at me again?"

"Shouty girl?!" She - quite aptly - shouted, before coughing into a fist and regaining her composure. "Please, as if someone of my position would do something so childish."

"But you shouted at me before when I made all of your dust go… _kabloo-ey._"

"You _what?!_" Yang's voice suddenly raised, Jaune appreciated the alleviation of her gaze - if only for a second or two.

"N-Nothing, Yang! It was nothing!"

Flicking her ponytail, the young woman averted her gaze from Ruby, "You're lucky that it _became_ nothing thanks to your _boyfriend_ \- Mister tall, blonde and scraggly over there." Owch. He wasn't that bad.

Ruby took a step back, bumping into her older sister, "B-boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?!" Yang took a step forward. Towards Jaune. Her fist was now on his hoodie collar. Why did the stars align so? Did the gods hate him? Some were the burning questions of Jaune Arc, and maybe he would get answers if it didn't feel like the cloth would burn first. "What did you do to my sister?!" `Nothing!` is what he would like to say, but lacked the will to say at this point.

Is this how Vul always felt? All of that bullshit just piling up onto him until he no longer gave a single fuck anymore? Probably.

Gods know crap like this happens to him all the time.

It also seems like the Gods know when there's too much of a good thing, as they sent down his saviour dressed in red and black. "Yang, Yang - look! It's starting!"

Dropping him, Yang turned to whatever was going on atop the stage where the lone microphone once stood. Jaune picked himself off, backed away slightly from his aggressor and focused on the new figures that appeared on the platform. There were two, far-away but nevertheless imposing.

One had fair blonde hair, tied in a bun and wavy. Holding a _riding crop,_ of all things, her attire was questionable to Jaune, but he didn't think it wise to question it.

Not that he _would_ complain, of course.

Arms crossed and eyebrows knotted into a tight-knit glare, her eyes roamed the people occupating the hall below her - as if giving each and every person a stern warning for something that they had no idea happened. Whatever she was doing, it was working.

The other was less intimidating however having evermore stage presence than the woman next to him. Hair silver, his eyes remained closed and waiting. In one hand was an antique-looking cane and in the other was a mug holding the symbol of Vale on the side of it. Jaune closed his own eyes and focused on the undeniable presence within the very air.

…

He stumbled backward, almost falling flat on his behind, but caught himself. He was receiving even more looks now - some from his little group - but that was of no immediate concern.

That man's Aura was absurd. Not in the way he had so much, rather how it was _defined_ \- shaped, even. What was even more disturbing was the fact he was able to sense it through the almost infinite mass of steel and flesh between them. Never before in had Jaune ever encountered anything like it. Hell, it didn't even have a sensation, only repulsion of his ability. If you held the teen to gunpoint, he would have to describe it as magnetic - both parts being the same pole.

Most people's Aura shaped around them in response to their personalities, it being a manifestation of the soul and what-not. Some felt warm, only to turn into a blazing inferno - like Yang who was next to him. And currently keeping one eye on him in a very intimidating fashion…? Lovely. Jaune could only ever really sense someone's Aura if he was an arms-length away and if he was intentionally looking for the feeling.

However, the words just seemed to die on his tongue when talking about _that_ man's Aura.

The chorus of murmurs delved to whispers, all while the old-looking man at the microphone stared whimsically at gods knew what. Whispers calmed like a summer breeze under his gaze.

Then silence.

"I'll… keep this brief," The man spoke. Jaune thought he was going to drop dead right then and there; one sentence and he was already feeling the tension. "I can only assume many of you traveled far and wide here today in search of something. Whether or not you know what that something _is_ matters not. What I _will_ say matters is your _intention_. Do you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of those who cannot?"

_Yes._

"Do you plan to fight back the forces of evil that lurk in Remnant's shadows and help good prevail?"

_I do._

He paused for a second, taking the time to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes and taking a breath, he continued, "However, as I look upon you all, I can only see wandering souls - lost and without direction. So I must ask you again, what is it that you are looking for? Allow me to show you. But for me to do so…"

"…You must take the first step yourself." Opening his eyes and giving passing regards to his audience, he turned and walked off-stage without so much as a glance back.

Stepping up to the mic, the woman spoke with grandeur and purpose, "Everyone shall rest tonight in the Grand Hall for tomorrow's Initiation. You may roam the garden and use the various facilities but leaving the premisis is forbidden. I bid you goodnight. Dismissed." With the word, everyone scattered aimlessly to unpack, store equipment and generally set up for the night.

"Woah… Professor Ozpin sounds so wise, don't you think Jaune?" Ruby asked.

Professor Ozpin? "Yeah. But just who is he? Like, the headmaster or something?" It wouldn't make much sense otherwise.

Ruby looked aghast, "You didn't know?! That's _the_ Professor Ozpin, Jaune!"

Holding both of his hands up in surrender, Jaune replied sheepishly, "That doesn't really answer my question, Ruby…"

"Oh. Well, yeah!" Ruby nodded, ignoring the person in between the two who was there for a very specific reason.

Yang took the hood of her sister's cloak and began to drag her across the hall, towards the exit. "C'mon, Ruby," she growled. "Let's get our stuff ready for tonight."

"Oh. Alright. I'll see you later, Jaune!" As if completely oblivious to the action, Ruby waved joyfully to her friend.

Jaune returned it with a smile. A second passed and his eyes met the last person with him, the girl in white. "So…"

"You didn't give her the brochure, did you?" She snapped.

It took Jaune off guard, "I- uh… no." It was still folded up in his trouser's back pocket.

She flicked her ponytail for what seemed like the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. "Typical."

Jaune took the time to quickly have a look at the girl's own Aura shape.

…

Some Auras also exuded sense. Some of the smell, others of touch (if you managed to get close enough to) and others changed the very air around them. The air around this girl was very cold. And for some reason, it made Jaune sad.

"I would appreciate if you were to lift your gaze from me. It is quite uncomforting."

Caught in the act yet again. Jaune managed an apologetic tone despite wanting to really just explain. "Oh, sorry... you mind telling me your name? I'm Jaune." He smiled; strangers were just friends you haven't met yet. At its best, his expression was awkward but could have been interpreted as downright creepy with the wrong audience.

She was the wrongest of audiences.

"I would actually. I'll be taking my leave; I hope that we do not meet each other again." She turned tail and left, leaving a path of pompousness and isolation in her wake.

Things weren't looking up for Jaune and he didn't expect them to go much better from here on out.

/-/

_…and to Elaine, tell her about the scope that I recommended to you! I'm sure it'll come in handy for her too. Tell Crimson I'm doing fine as well, I know I left all of a sudden and he'll probably be trashing the school trying to find me or something. Hopefully-_

"Hmm…"

-_it hasn't come to that yet. Oo, and before I forget, remind Rina to try send her batch of homemade cookies through Beacon's reception. I mean-_

"…mmmmm…"

_-it's not like I've asked yet, but I'm sure a bag of cookies wouldn't cause too much commotion... right? I've missed you all so much, I'm so sorry that-_

"…mmmmmm-"

"_Ughhh…_ Yaaang. Why can't you leave me alone for like ten minutes?! Why are you watching me like some hawk?" The sister in question was lying next to Ruby, looking intently at the parchment her sister was writing on. Her own sleeping bag was surprisingly neat and ready for use but had spent the previous five or so minutes not-quite-politely looking over her shoulder.

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "I'm just wondering what you're doing, Ruby. There's no reason to get so worked up." Yang balanced herself on her elbows and forearms.

"It's just that- forget it…" she sighed lightly before giving in. "I'm just writing a letter to my friends back in Patch. Unlike you, I didn't _get_ to bring my friends here."

"Hm," Yang pondered for a second, letting a few names come to mind. "Well, there's Ja- yeah, no, forget I said anything."

"What? What's wrong with Jaune…?" Ruby had sounded hesitant, to say the least, somewhat wary to know what her older sister thought of her brand-new, no-Yang-needed friend.

Oh, how _badly_ Yang wanted to express her dislike on the guy. I mean, sure he was a growing guy but he could have at least afforded to be the _tiniest_ bit subtler with his intentions. It was slightly offending that he thought she wouldn't notice him.

But how _badly_ she failed to do so upon seeing her sister's puppy-dog eyes. Needless to say, she melted instantly.

It was a fifty-fifty chance most days, but being worn out in the morning with the whole `Welcome to Beacon Academy` fiasco had tuckered her out fully.

"Nothing. He's _great._" It hurt. So much.

Unaware of her sister's teeth, of which the bones were grinding off, Ruby threw her pen into the air and subsequently threw her arms around Yang. "Oh, I knew you'd like him! I knew it! Even though you still kind of threatened him… that was just a misunderstanding anyway! Thank you, Yang! Thank you, thank you!"

Maybe it was worth the lie after all.

Ruby caught the pen without a second thought and once she was done giving her sister the `huggie-wuggie's`, as Yang liked to call them, she couldn't help but have half a mind as to why she was writing a letter of all things. They had scrolls for a reason, after all.

Perhaps written words contained more meaning to them than she thought, which reminded her.

"Hey, Rubes, I got someone I want you to meet."

"…What?" Silver eyes regarded her sister with suspicion. "Who?"

"A friend. Hopefully, anyways. Come on!" The blonde dragged Ruby to her feet and lead her to a corner of the hall. They swerved through various people in various states of dress. Some hadn't even bothered changing out of their armour and instead opted to sleep in steel. Ruby didn't understand how they managed it.

Yang didn't seem to care, "Comin' through, make way! Adorable little sister comin' through and don't you dare look at her or I'll be on your ass!"

"_Yang…_"

"What? It's true, isn't it?" She replied unapologetically. "There she is… Helloohoo~! Hey there, Blakey!"

/-/

Blakey? What a strange name…

`Blakey` looked reluctant to talk to Yang. The youngest in the hall definitely understood that sentiment (especially with how overbearing she's been for the last couple of hours) but didn't think anyone else did. Normally people would jump at the chance to get to know her awesome older sister.

Whether they cared about herself or not.

She was dressed in a nice, fluffy nightgown and held a book in her hand, the other one crossed along her torso. Reluctantly, she folded the corner and addressed the blonde, even briefly meeting the eyes of Ruby. "…I thought that I told you my name was Blake, not `Blakey`." The now correctly identified `Blake` responded.

In her ever-present carefreeness, Yang laughed, "You did. I just didn't pay attention." Yeah, that sounded like her sister.

Blake rolled her eyes, "Why are you here, Yang? I see you've found your sister." Her amber eyes met the shining grey of Ruby's own. Again.

She looked to Yang for answers. "Well, after you ran off for _undisclosed_ reasons," Ruby bristled slightly, "I had to find you somehow. I went around asking people about you. Red-tipped hair, puffy cloak, goth dress-"

"Short," Blake said.

"-short," Yang affirmed. "I mean, it's true." She justified under Ruby's cute pout. Just because it was true didn't mean she always had to point it out. Stupid Yang. "I eventually found good ol' Blake here saying she saw someone matching your description so she and I went to go look for you."

"More like drag me against my will…"

"Hush, Blake, nobody likes a wet blanket." Ew.

"We eventually had to split up but I promised to meet up with her again."

"Much to my dismay…" Blake murmured.

Yang eyed her raven-haired acquaintance, unimpressed, "Are you _always_ like this?"

"It's a gift, really."

Ruby sniggered. Yang's gaze softened, turning toward her kid sister. Blake brought her book cover up her face, hiding her mouth from view. The cover was of two swirling fire-like objects, each trying to follow each other and creating a ring of flames of sorts. It was interesting.

"What's your book about, Blake?" Blake gave the black-and-red-haired girl an unexpecting look, not anticipating someone would ask her about the literature she was interested in. Seeing this, Ruby tried to correct herself, "It's fine if you don't want to, I was just curious-"

"No." Blake closed the book. "It's fine."

Ruby breathed a sigh of relief. "So what _is_ it about?"

"It's about a man…" Was that it? Ruby was about to interject but Blake continued, "…a man who was a hero, saving people and defeating evil."

It was like the stories Summer and Yang used to read to her as a child. "That's-"

"And then he learnt the truth about what being a `hero` really was. The horrors and nightmarish sights that come with it." Or not… "Death, war, death, betrayal, bloodshed, death." The black-haired girl paused. "He struggles with his two inner personas - one who believes that what he fights for is good and the other who believes the endeavor for what is `good` is futile."

"I won't spoil anything," Blake reassured, "but the book isn't exactly gearing up towards a happy end."

Ruby struggled to find words. She was still standing but her legs felt weak, threatening to fail her for some reason. "That..."

"Ruby?" Yang asked, worried for her little sister. She definitely knew Ruby was a big girl now, but the story _did_ go against everything their mother had essentially told her a hero was. There was no real telling how she would react. "Ruby, are you alright?"

"That…"

It was Blake's turn to realise something was amiss, "Is she alright?" she questioned Yang. "Did I say something wrong?"

"That… doesn't matter!" She yelled. Many faces turned to see what the sudden and high-pitched uproar was about, some conversations stopped entirely. "It doesn't matter if being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be!" Ruby remembered sitting on the lap of her mother with Yang as she read them stories from books or her own adventures.

"It doesn't matter if he's been through hell and back!" She remembered Summer coming home covered in scrapes and bruises, joyfully announcing her return as she blasted the lodge door open. "It doesn't matter if- if he's struggling to figure out if it was all for nothing! As long as still alive, he's proving to the world and whatever evil that good _can_ prevail and that he's strong enough to burden the weights of both good _and_ evil."

Her mother's grave.

"And just because the book doesn't seem like it's going to end well… that doesn't mean that it won't! We won't ever see the ending of our stories until we live it through. And maybe… maybe she'll find a way to have a happy ending." Ruby took a breath, "For everyone."

…

"A-At least that's what I think."

…

The silence in the hall could have curb-stomped a mime after knocking it to the ground with a knee to the stomach. And while Ruby was suddenly heating up, she couldn't tell that everyone - even the some of the teachers who were supposed to be on-duty for the night - was looking at her either confused or in awe.

"That was… extremely profound, Ruby," Blake admitted.

"Indeed it was." A new figure in a long, sky-blue gown said. Her hair was let down and perfectly straight but the snow-white shade of hair was telling.

"S-Shouty-Girl?! When did you get here?" Ruby was redder than her cloak. How much she would give just to be able to smother her face into its hood right about now. She couldn't believe she said things like that in front of literally _everyone_... so embarrassing...

Shouty-Girl rolled her eyes, "Oh, I don't know maybe the fact that you were ranting for the last minute or two about the fundamentals and philosophy of being a hero. And it's Weiss." She turned her head to the side, nose in the air. "Don't call me by that stupid nickname, it's undignified." Weiss, then? Ruby was getting used to referring to her as Shouty-Girl in her own head.

"Uh, hey guys…" Appearing shyly, a new voice a person appeared between the mix-match of colors.

"You!" Weiss fumed.

"You…" Yang glared.

"Me?"

"Jaune!" Ruby cheered, happy for the distraction.

"Who?" Blake asked.

"…"

Jaune coughed meaningfully. "Yeah, I could hear you from all the way over on the other side of the hall…"

"…Oh." Yeah, Ruby was no longer happy for the distraction. In fact, it was distracting her in a way she very much did not appreciate. Please stop, Jaune.

"The teachers were making their way over to check out the commotion, but I let told them I knew you guys and could sort it out." He looked between the four, eyes lingering on the girls in black and white respectively. "Or at least, most of you." The one in white he had met, Ruby knew, but the girl with the bow was definitely a first appearance to him.

Shouty-Girl scoffed, rolling her head along with her eyes.

"But no worries, I got here as slowly as I could so Ruby could get everything out of her system." Jaune winked. That cheeky- "But I think it was about time we all hit the sack."

The blond teenager was dressed quite casually, in grey and yellow-striped basketball shorts and a black t-shirt with the _cutest_ little bunny rabbit on it. It was a far cry from the assortment of the light leather pieces of armour and small bracers of metal over his arms from yesterday but everyone dressed differently when it was bedtime.

Ruby was no different, in her tank top and sweats after all.

"Yeah…" Yang looked at Jaune with unreasonable caution, "I think that would be for the best. Let's get going, Ruby."

"Alright, see you, Jaune!"

"Goodnight, Ruby. Bye, Yang." Yang ignored him. Owch. Jaune winced as he waved back. "And…?"

"Blake." He nodded stiffly.

Under normal circumstances, he'd also try to get the angry girl's name, but that didn't seem the case right now. Maybe it was to avoid another outburst of hidden emotions?

"Right. Goodnight you two." Jaune skittered past the murmuring crowds of lying teenagers that were, no doubt, talking about the fiasco that unfolded not five minutes prior. Giving one last side-eye look to Blake, he continued forward to where his quarters were in the massive hall.

Weiss huffed and nodded to Blake, who nodded back - albeit after half a second - and made her way back to her own sleeping bag. The bow that decorated the top of Blake's head twitched. _`We won't ever see the endings of our stories until we live it through`_ What if she _had_ lived it through instead of run away?

_Foolish thoughts,_ Blake thought. The candle next to her flickered whimsically.

_Just a few more pages, then._

/-/

That entire situation was quite relevant, it seemed. Whispers didn't stop as Jaune excused himself from the large mass of people in various states of dress. On another note, Ruby's outburst was quite unexpected; he never thought such a petite girl could create such a large, passionate outburst of pure emotion. The tone of her voice, not to mention the change in her Aura, just leaked of something Jaune could only describe as… sincerity? Experience…? No…

"Hey, watch it!"

"Wha-" Jaune didn't even get to finish what he was saying before he was toppled onto the floor, taken down by his own lack of attention. He had tripped over something, something peachy in tone, soft but firm. Legs.

He had tripped over a pair of fair, smooth legs.

Trailing up the offending limbs, the teen admired the curvature and tone of flesh - which came up to a pair of short pajama shorts, black and taut against skin. A bright, yellow tank top - exposing a scandalous amount of cleavage - was highlighted by a flowing mane of gold, which only drew attention to a pair of piercing, red-eyes and the exposition of pearly white teeth that were pulled into a scowl.

The floored blond, still on his side, was once again caught in the act. At least there was some truth behind the accusation this time, he'd admit. Who could blame him?

Nobody. Well, at least the people who _claimed_ they could were smart enough not to get caught looking at the bombshell in the room_._ Jaune never was the smoothest of operators.

Yang Xiao-Long's teeth remained grit as she spoke, "Like what you see?" Each and every word was laced with deadly poison, tempting Jaune to say something that he shouldn't have.

"I… uh," The boy prayed to the Gods that his mouth wouldn't fail him. "Uhhhh..."

_Come on, Jaune, you got this. You've talked to girls before!_

_…_

_Okay, maybe you the number of girls you've talked to aren't proportionate to this situation - but just think about what Vul would do!_

_…_

_Maybe not do that, Jaune._

Sea blue eyes trailed downwards from the crimson of Yang's own.

_Shit._

The scowl on the girl's face took a hellish edge and the poor man could feel the inferno raging from the Aura of the girl in front of him. "Got you." She came forward and grabbed him by the shirt - rearing a fist as she stood up, bringing the other with her. Within his very soul, Jaune knew that what was coming would probably stick with him for a day or two. Probably a week.

Where were the teachers, damn it?!

Jaune shut his eyelids tightly and grit his teeth, waiting for the impending pain. It took him a second to realise it would never come. Using the willpower that remained in his system, the teen opened an eye warily, only to find that Yang's gaze had left him and instead bore onto Ruby - who was cuddling her pillow as she stared a particular spec on the floor of the hall.

His own blonde set of hair turned as he looked confusedly at the other's sister. Yang glared at Jaune fiercely, before dropping him onto the ground and making her way over to her own sleeping bag - not too far from Ruby's, but far enough to stop her from hearing him speak at a reasonable volume. She dragged a leg up to her chest and draped her arm over, in turn resting her chin within the crook.

Red-eyes stay fixated on Jaune. He was all up for pretty girls having their eyes on him, but this was something that the teen simply couldn't appreciate. If anything, she looked expectant. He turned to Ruby, back to Yang, to Ruby again.

And while he didn't understand everything, Jaune knew he had to do _something. _His internal moral compass clashed with self-preservation, but it eventually one out - prompting him to walk carefully over to the sullen girl a meter or two away.

Sitting down a comfortable distance away, Jaune crossed his legs and awkwardly linked his hands. Time to get this over with.

"Hey, Ru-"

"Oh, hey, Jau-

Ruby's head was half-turned, an open mouth in the middle of forming a smile. Her bright, silver eyes were just as wide, no doubt unexpecting that Jaune would initiate the conversation. The pillow in her hands would have facepalmed, but it lacked the appropriate appendages.

Jaune was no better, his mouth mirrored the form of Ruby's and his entire body just froze.

Silence filled the gap between them. At least until the two burst out into a childish fit of laughter and giggles. The red-tipped girl stuffed her face into her pillow once more, this time to stifle her building giddiness while Jaune attempted to keep himself upright and not fall over onto his side. Because Gods knew how much they hurt right now.

He had been the first one of the duo to recover, breathing out a deep and satisfied sigh before speaking, "So, you doing alright, Ruby?" The girl in question was still trying to hold herself back but was slowly regaining control once more.

Letting out the last giggle from her system, Ruby released her grasp on the pillow. It was shaped like the face of a cute, little dog - Jaune noted. Fumbling around the ground behind her, the youngest girl in the room found a pen atop a folded piece of paper. and began to throw it up into the air, catching it on the way down.

"Well, yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" The pen landed perfectly in her palm before it went back into the air.

"I dunno," Jaune said, rolling his eyes slowly across the ceiling of the hall. "Maybe after that _epic_ speech from earlier, you'd be feeling _something_."

"Erk-" Ruby struggled to keep her smile in a quite cute display of self-control as the pen she threw bounced off of the top of her head with a plastic _click._

Ruby dove forward to smother her face into the pillow from earlier. She began to yell at a respectable volume as to not bother those around the two. Maybe she should have thought of that earlier.

"I can't believe I said all of that! It was so embarrassing to lose myself in front of the entirety of the school!" Ruby's legs kicked behind her, reminiscent of how Amber would throw a tantrum back home. How much Jaune missed her, even when she was one of the most clingy of his sisters. Seeing someone else like this opened a small pit in his gut in something reminiscent of nostalgia.

"Ruby-" Jaune reached out a hand, only to flinch backward when his friend's rant wasn't yet over. Hold on, friend?-

"Beacon hasn't even started yet, but I'm going to forever be known as _that girl who did that one thing that one time_! Ugh…"

"Ruby, I-" He made a friend! It took a while to realise it, but he finally did! Hah, take that Vul! Take that, Mom and Dad! Take that, Sapphire! All that eldest-sisterly worrying was for nothing! Nothing!

Unknowing of the blond's internal plight, Ruby continued, "I can't even talk to Yang about it because she might make it worse by beating up anyone who even looks at me wrong! I don't want to be _that girl with that sister, _I got enough of that at Signal!"

"Ruby!"

She stopped her rant midway, turning her face to reveal almost teary eyes. "What…?"

Uh-oh. Those were real tears. Tears weren't good, not when you've experienced them a thousand times over with half a dozen sisters that sometimes wailed over the most menial of things. However, Jaune didn't think this situation to be trivial at all.

What did he say now? The blond was so busy revelling in the delight of making the imaginary versions of his doubters eat their very real words that he hadn't noticed he had just interrupted Ruby's rambling. In spite of this, the blond took a page out of Vul's book and said the first thing that came to mind - for better or for worse.

"I found it inspirational."

"E-eh?" Ruby stammered. The blond rotated his body so that he was facing Ruby head-on as he explained himself because the gods knew that he didn't really understand what he said himself.

"And I'm sure that loads of other people here did too." His eyes roamed across the many people who chattered away within Beacon's Grand Hall. Ruby followed his look, scanning the entire population of what was essentially a massive slumber party. "I bet that some people here had doubt in themselves - in the world that awaits them."

Ruby's voice was under a whisper, almost in awe, "How do you know?"

Jaune contemplated how much he should say. Would what he reveal ruin his potential friendship with this girl? Would it change her perception of him as a person? Ultimately, he didn't think it really mattered right now; with a breath, he spelt out, "Because I doubt it all too."

Just as the girl turned and opened her mouth to retort, Jaune didn't allow her. He moved in closer, shifting his body closer to the sleeping bag, "But what you said, the words _you_ spoke, I can guarantee that it wiped all of that doubt away." His hand swept outwards, stretched an encompassing the mass of bodies surrounding them. "These people won't think twice about doing the right thing because of _you,_ Ruby. They'll live out their stories for the better." Or for the worse.

"What about you?" She looked hesitant to say anything, eyes darting around but found their resolve within the pits of blue within Jaune's.

The seemingly innocent question took him off-guard. "What do you mean?"

It was Ruby's turn to move closer, shifting her legs to the edge of her sleeping bag - moving her dog pillow out of the way. "You said that you doubted it all too, so… did what I say get rid of it?" Like a word in the wind, the message flowed between them.

No. "Yes, of course, it did, Ruby," Jaune lied, smiling softly. He tilted his head ever so slightly, a few stray locks of gold coming over his eyes.

Slowly, the girl backed away once again, grasping at her puppy pillow. Her face was buried as her words were stifled, "…Mrrrfbll."

"Sorry, what?"

The words were quiet, whispers invisible and unheard to anyone but the two of them, "…Thank you."

It made Jaune pause. After a while, Jaune stood himself up and gave Ruby's lying form a final look before carefully making his way back to his own sleeping bag; he didn't want to trip over any other legs, after all.

He could definitely tell, even without the help of his Aura sense, that Ruby was left in a better mood than when he first arrived but as he walked, the scene kept replaying in his head.

_`…Thank you.`_

Those were the words he lived to hear. They told him he was doing his job and doing it well, but Ruby did not have any idea how adorable it was to hear her say those words like that. Jaune's limited experience with the opposite gender definitely didn't help, too. No amount of training would have prepared him for that kind of feeling.

Red rushed to his face, blood beginning to heat up. Hopefully, nobody was to look at him as he made his way to safety for the night, features struggling to remain passive while being tinted obviously with pink.

Tomorrow would be less complicated, he told himself. This was Beacon Academy, after all - the place he trained in hell for a year to get to.

All he had to do was take the first step.

/-/

Yang watched the two finish their conversation. There was many a time when she was extremely close to intervening but halted herself for Ruby's sake. She wouldn't tell her what was up, even if she could guess what it was, anyway.

Being so far away from the two meant that she could only catch a word or two, not that those words helped her understand the overall atmosphere of the interaction. Ruby had gone on something of a mini-rant, an action Yang wouldn't have really expected from her little sister away from home, before returning to how it all started. With Jaune taking his leave, Yang knew it was her cue to step in.

Walking to her kid sister's sleeping bag, she sat closer than Jaune - on top of the bag itself and directly next to the lying Ruby. "Heya, Rubes, you feeling alright?"

Ruby tightly held her pillow for a second, easing the grasp just as quickly as she increased it. "…Yeah."

A second passed before Yang pulled her sister up and dragged her into a warm one-handed embrace. Just because she didn't want to speak to her about what was wrong didn't mean the blonde would give up on helping her younger sister out whenever she could.

"You know I'm here for you, sis. You can talk to me about anything."

Ruby kept her face in between her pillow, voice muffled by the cloth of the soft, dog-like object. "I know, Yang. Thank you." Her hair body rocked lightly from Yang's affectionate shake.

"Get some rest, Rubes. We got a big day tomorrow," Yang gently comforted.

It was something that Yang herself never thought she would have to do, but following the disappearance of Summer - it was a role that had to be filled in. With their father drowning in sorrow, Yang just so happened to be the only one who could fit mold their mother had left behind. Sure, there was Qrow too but he was always out on the field and was shaken up in his own way about the loss of his teammate.

She placed a small kiss on the side of Ruby's head and stood herself up, giving her sister some space - all the while debating how hard she should beat up Jaune tomorrow. It was twice he was caught ogling at her, earning him a solid negative score on her relationship spectrum but then again, he _had_ helped her sister feel better when even she herself couldn't do so.

Yang didn't know whether to feel thankful or offended. She pondered the question as she walked to get her own rest for the night. A girl needs her beauty rest, you know.

Once she was, for the most part, out of range - Ruby fell over once more onto her sleeping bag and hugged her doggy pillow tightly. Peeking over the top of it, her silver eyes glistened under the fading light of the hall.

The only reason she didn't want to show her face to Yang at that moment was to hide the undeniable and burning blush that decorated her cheeks. She was grateful to her sister, who always sought the best for her - even if she sometimes did so in questionable ways but if Yang saw her like this?

She would get all the wrong ideas.

Or maybe all the right ideas. Gah! Why did Jaune have to say all of those nice things? And why did it have to make her chest feel all funny?!

Ruby hoped that by tomorrow, everything would blow over. She was at Beacon, after all - a whole two years early! Yeah, by tomorrow she would be feeling fine, she knew it.

All she had to do was take the first step.

* * *

_7 Months to the Start of Beacon_

* * *

Corpses decorated the ground; soil fertile with the blood of the limp bodies.

Some were fresh, others were not, he couldn't tell. But the man he was with could. He surveyed the wreckage of yet another town, some embers remaining from whenever it was razed by Grimm.

Or bandits. That was now a possibility too, he had learnt.

How could humans be so evil? How could they not see that there was so much more to work against _together,_ instead of each other?

Pillage, kill, burn, loot, repeat. They were like Grimm, but in many ways worse. At least those beasts never had humanity to retain. These people had seemingly abandoned it. For what? Lien? Pride, soaked in the blood of man?

It was disgusting. It made him feel sick.

He threw up in the wreckage of a house, the wood and stone engulfing his bile like a vortex of brown and grey. Wiping away the remnants of runny, green liquid from his mouth he made his way over to his mentor - who was inspecting a body for injuries that could prove the cause of this hellscape.

The wind was strong.

He had hoped not to see something like this again after that day.

But it had only come back tenfold each and every time.

More bodies. More blood. More death.

Sometimes they wore regular clothing, others they were in uniforms of white with red markings. Other times they were dressed in light armour as differing weapons were by their side. It depended, it really did.

Coming up behind the older man, cape fluttering in the harsh winds, his question was asked silently.

"White Fang." He answered. The body was littered with bullet wounds but what was probably more revealing was the cracked fragments of porcelain that scattered the dirt beneath their feet.

He hated that he was able to recognise that.

There was no one left to save here; if so, Vul would have told him what to do. Instead, he just stood from his squat position and began to lead Jaune onwards to where the offending party went.

The rudimentary steel sword and shield on his back almost unstrapped itself from his backpack in the roaring of the winds. They had served their purposes well in the time they had been together, however, the edge on the blade remained sharp despite the rough texture and the surface of the shield remained strong despite the dents.

With what hope he had left, Jaune hoped he could see his heirloom weapon again soon.

"Come on, kid. We've got some work to do." Jaune nodded, following Vul further into the ruins.

He hadn't led him wrong thus far, why stop now?

Winds howled.

Jaune took yet another step.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**That got... deep?**

**I found out that in canon, Blake's book hinted to Ozpin's ability to reincarnate quite a while back. I thought I would use the same device but to hint at something else, this time.**

**Furthermore, Ruby's relationship with her mother is largely unknown so I sprinkled my own two cents in. With her little outburst, I wanted to state what she thought her views on becoming a huntress were - something that could be compared to a certain other character.**

**Almost at Initiation, whoop!**

**Please feel free to leave detailed criticisms of the chapter in reviews or my inbox, I don't mind. Improving this story is a two-way street, all you gotta do is hit that send button.**

* * *

_Thanks for reading this chapter!_


	4. Chapter 4: Beacon's Many Faces

**Author's Notes:**

**Okay, so, somebody finally made a connection to Fate/Stay Night's Archer - more so that character's philosophy on being a hero. (Fantastic anime series, by the way, check it out. Word of warning, I wouldn't get stuck too far into it. **_**It's like a damn labyrinth but the walls are made of timelines and alternate universes. **_**Might seem a little overwhelming.)**

**While Jaune retains qualities of that, his char****acter arc isn't solely negative pre-Beacon. I'll say that much, at least.**

**Also, Qrow isn't just a memory - he's still out there doing whatever Ozpin wants him to. He'll get his time. Jaune's story pre-Beacon is just being told under the pretense of being a couple months prior to the start of the canon timeline.**

**And almost one hundred follows! That's amazing - thank you guys so much for sticking with my shit lol**

**Without further ado, we'll get into the story... enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

_Eleven Months to the Start of Beacon_

* * *

Jaune gasped, desperate to get fresh air into his lungs - beads of sweat dripping from his face like a waterfall. With a roar, he forced off Vul's sword from his own - though he knew that it was only because the older man let him.

"Come on, kid, that all you got? Show me what you can do with that sword of yours!"

"Screw you, Vul! What happened to not wanting to beat the shit out of kids?!" He desperately yelled with no regard for keeping his breathing in check.

Vul gave a simple enough response, "Changed my mind," he shrugged.

The teen's fury remained unrepented after spending an entire month under the man's hellish regime. Sure, the bastard _claimed _it was because he only had a year on the clock - and while that was partly true, both parties knew that Vul being a prick had a part to play in it.

Dancing backward, Jaune's mentor took a few swift steps further from the exhausted blond, one hand around his back and the other holding his large, steel greatsword casually in the other. That was another thing, he never failed to rub in his face how outclassed he was against him. Jaune got it, damn it! He was a fully-fledged huntsman and the other was a kid with a sword and a dream - unfortunately, that just meant more ammunition for Vul.

Not like he didn't have loads of it already, the tell-tale cogs shifting from the weapon his teacher held were audible across the forest clearing.

Vul scoffed, "Heads up, kid."

Jaune widened his eyes, before tearing his shield upwards with his left arm and taking the brunt of three whole shotgun slugs blasting into the appendage. The sword was a gun - an honest to the gods double-barrelled shotgun_. _Even with the surface of his shield and his Aura, the force from the shots dug his boots into the ground and pushed him back a meter.

With the short onslaught finished, the young Arc knew better to find respite for even a picosecond - instead flashing the edge of his sword forward to meet the falling figure of Vul, who was crashing down from the skies above him. He followed through with the strike, not wishing to engage in a deadlock with a Vul who had momentum, gravity and mass on his side.

Instead of a clash, the two blades sparked with light fires briefly and with almost unbelievable agility - Vul flipped through the air using the change in momentum of Jaune's defensive manoeuver as a spring-board of sorts before landing perfectly at the side opposite to where he started opening fire. Dramatically, he spread his free arm to his side and Jaune resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Because to do so would be to take eyes off of his opponent.

Lugging the huge weapon over his cloaked shoulder, Vul put his outstretched hand on his hips. Smugly, he spoke, "Not bad, kid. You're a quick learner. Still pretty garbage, but you know. Progress n' all." Trust Vul to manage to sound both honest and patronizing at the same time.

Still breathing heavily, Jaune kept his eyes fixated on every part of his mentor, "Y-yeah? Well, it's not that hard when someone beats it into you…" he panted out.

Vul shrugged, closing his eyes confidently, "What can I say? Pain is a good catalyst for learning." A single eye revealed a crimson iris as he muttered, "Too bad Signal doesn't really get that. And they complain that I drink too much… not like I can do much else to pass the time."

The blond recoiled slightly, looking warily at the greying huntsman, "Gods, I worry for anyone else who has to get taught by you."

"Yeah, well," Vul pointed up at the sky with his left hand, "maybe you should start worrying about yourself first."

"Huh?" Jaune looked up, eyes blinded by the opening within the canopy of the Mistrali forest, revealing a bright light from the sun above. He squinted to get a better look, "What are you even pointing at- ow!"

His own two weapons clattered on the floor, the sound of steel muffled by light grass and dirt; the teen brought both of his hands to cover his nose that was hit by a fist-sized _rock_ of all things. Man, rocks sucked.

Blood leaked profusely from his nose, Aura unable to protect him from the unexpected attack. While Aura did have an unconscious element to it, you had to consciously flow it through your body to get its full effect - something that was drilled into Jaune at the start of his training.

The unconscious flowing of his Aura did not do much against a kilogram of stone that fell from God knows how high.

"S-shit…" Jaune's nasally voice was covered both by his hands and the red liquid that spilled from his nose.

Vul walked nonchalantly to the rock that slammed into Jaune's face, picking it up and inspected its surface. Or, well, the multiple surfaces - seeing as though the rock had shattered into a couple of fragmented chunks. With a shrug and an expression of disinterest, he lobbed the stone over his shoulder and into the forest behind him and began walking towards the blond.

Jaune could have sword he heard somebody curse miles out from the clearing but, in complete Vul-ish fashion, his mentor didn't give enough of a shit to even turn around.

Did he specify how he had spent an _entire_ month with this guy?

Sure, he was strong. Scratch that, Vul was something akin to a monster in human form. Yeah, that fit. Especially if that monster was constantly off its rocker and blitzed beyond belief. He definitely helped Jaune appreciate the feeling of being sober, if anything else.

How could a regular person lug around a blade of solid steel that was the same length and width of an average man and _still_ manage flips and mid-air twirls?

Jaune wasn't sure.

One month wasn't exactly a long time, but it was enough time to notice a semblance of progress. He was coming up on around ten minutes of constant sparring without A: Getting tired, B: Getting his ass handed to him or C: Getting interrupted by an angry farmer, creature of Grimm any similar sort of distraction. If you considered that during his first-ever spar with Vul, the man won by kicking Jaune in the crotch - progress was _definitely_ being made.

…And Vul better be prepared to get a taste of his own medicine - no matter how long it takes. Jaune narrowed his gaze onto Vul's untouched crotch.

_However long it takes_…

The huntsman noticed his apprentice's gaze and rose an eyebrow, stopping his forward motion, "Uh, kid? My eyes are up here."

"One day…" Jaune said - voice tinted with nasally rage. "One day..."

"Right," Vul blinked. "Well, the river's that-a-way and you better clean up before we head out. I think that we've done enough training for one day."

Jaune mumbled in agreement, picking himself - and his worn steel substitutes - off the ground. Cursing silently at the leaking blood from his nose getting onto the material, he secured the weapons onto his back of his Pumpkin Pete's hoodie and stomped forwards into the direction pointed.

Crocea Mors had been left in the ruins of… ruins of…holy shit.

He didn't even get the name of the village he stayed in. The village where he met Lyn and Pearl. The village where Vul saved his sorry, pathetic ass _twice_. The very same village he failed to protect Lyn - failing to keep his promise to Pearl. Jaune stopped his trek in unadulterated disgust of himself.

He really was a piece of trash, wasn't he? Unable to keep his own promises, unable to save those who he cared about. What if it came down to saving his family, too? Would his mother's last dying thought be that her own son was too weak to protect her? Gods forbid Amber or Lavender...

_No! Stop being an idiot, Jaune. There's a reason you're training with Vul._

_But I still let her die._

_And you won't let it happen again._

_But what if it does happen - and what if I'm not ready?_

_You will be. There is no other choice._

"You!" A sudden voice, new and wild, reverberated across the trees of the forest. "These ain't your parts of the forest, ya' hear me?! Get! Get or I'll make ya'!"

Vul's cape fluttered as he spun around, eyes wide and scanning the area. Finding a figure squatting on the branches, he rolled his red eyes and scoffed. Some random guy squatting on a tree-branch wasn't about to tell him what to do. Putting a hand on his hips, the huntsman taunted, "Right, sure... you and what army?" A second passed and the grin on his face shattered into a million pieces. "Oh, shit-"

Still holding a sleeve to his nose, Jaune turned around and called out, "Vul, let's just go…" he wasn't really in the mood. "I don't know why you're always trying to get into a f- ah… hah...HAIIEEEE!-"

"-IEEEEEE, GET 'EM BOYS! AYA, AYA, AYAAA!" With the command, dozens and dozens of similarly dressed people in leaf-skirts sprung from who knows where - jumping from branch to branch as the supposed `leader` gave an animalistic war cry.

The teen was a deer in headlights, standing stock-still from the sheer shock of a tribe of forest-people advancing on a huntsman and his apprentice of all people. Only the blur of tattered red broke him out of his trance.

"Run, kid, run!" Vul cried, his weapon still over his shoulder as he dashed desperately deeper into the forest.

"Wh- how- gah! Screw it!" Jaune followed suit, kicking up fallen leaves and grass with each push of his boots. Between gasps, he managed to yell at his mentor, "H-How is it that all of this keeps to you?! The salmon Grimm while we were fishing, our tents catching on fire and now you've managed to anger an entire native tribe of tree-people! All in a month!"

"The trees, kid!" The huntsman shouted, ducking a spear that had an odd tint of purple on the tip. As soon as it hit the ground of the forest, the grass around began to wilt and decay - turning brown and crumbling.

Jaune's eyes were as wide as plates, "What kind of poison even is that?!"

"They're in the trees!"

/-/

They managed to escape. Thank the Gods.

Vul's hands placed on his knees; the man was doubled over and pitifully grasping at whatever air he could get into his throat. Jaune was similar, at least in the air department. He didn't even have the energy to stand, the blood from his nose had long since dried at created a disgusting ring of crusty red on the bottom half of his face.

"Guh..." The greying-huntsman inclined his head slightly towards the collapsed teen. "You didn't get hit, did you...?"

"…No." How nice of him to ask. Struggling to maintain his balance, Jaune attempted to stand and was half successful in the end. As in he made it halfway up before falling again and rolling down the hill that just so happened to be behind him. Just his luck.

"Kid!" Vul darted down the decline in footing, sliding down on his side. Why he was so desperate to keep him alive, Jaune couldn't say, but he was thankful for the man's concern. Even if he most likely was doing it out of either self-interest or self-preservation.

Sometimes the two went hand-in-hand, really.

Nevertheless, he continued, "Hey, you alright? Oh, nice. The river." Vul dove his head into the cool stream of water, despite his obvious need for air mere seconds prior.

"Ugh… nice to know I'm high on your list of priorities."

An unkempt, and now drenched, head of black hair rose from the water with a splash. Letting out a refreshed gasp, Vul said, "Eh, you'll be fine. Probably. Say, you did pretty well back there - dodging those spears 'n such."

Yeah, most people would strive to do that when put in that situation, Jaune liked to think. But his mentor appeared to be in something of an enlightened state, blood-red eyes widening in a manic fashion.

"Hey, Vul, are you… alright?"

Vul rose from the bank and began muttering, "So you're a kid with Aura that makes you a steel wall, but what good is that if you constantly get pummelled and pummelled by steel, claws and dust? If anything that just makes you a glorified human punching bag…"

"I don't like where this is going," Jaune mumbled in response from his position on the grassy embankment.

"That means… that means we gotta make you _faster._" With devilish speed and an even more devilish smile, Vul drew his massive weapon and stabbed it directly into Jaune's head. Or, at least, where Jaune's head _would_ have been if the teen didn't roll out of the way. Fast? Fast?! That was way past _fast!_ He almost lost his head!

Again!

"Eep! W-wait a second! Weren't we just done running from a tribe of tree-people? Why are we doing more running?!" His lungs were on fire, begging for respite as the teen stumbled to his feet and backstepped from his crazed teacher. "I thought you said we were done with training for today!"

The gears in his weapon whirled to life, shifting and changing the blade into something Jaune will never unsee.

A god-damn scythe.

The man in front of him turned his weapon into a scythe. Why did he have a greatsword, a shotgun and a _scythe _for a weapon?! Who even uses those things to kill with? Apart from the Grim Reaper, anyway. Well, Jaune's reaper was right in front of him and the situation most certainly looked grim.

"I changed my mind." That bastard- "Now, dodge!"

Dodge Jaune did, falling over backward and rolling to avoid the reaping of his entrails. "How are you even supposed to dodge a scythe?" He whispered to himself - panting harshly, eyes trailing upwards to keep track of his opponent's movement. The movement was clumsy and not at all coordinated, but whatever kept the blood inside of his body, thank you.

"You're doing a great job so far, kid." Vul twirled his scythe behind his back - spinning inward and outward, the edge of the weapon was mesmerising to the teen. Jaune swallowed. His mentor's smile matched the smile of the scythe. "Keep it up."

Groaning, Jaune pushed himself off of the ground - wiping away the crusted crimson around his mouth. Vul smirked, giving a silent chuckle as he shook his head. There was only one way to get stronger, to stop the deaths of those he cared about.

If the only way he was getting to Beacon was through this borderline-insane, gravelly-voiced, tackily-dressed drunkard of a huntsman…

Well, Jaune would take his chances.

With a crazed smile of his own, Jaune smirked in the best way he could - battered, broken, bloodied but determined. Taking a deep breath, he rose his head upwards and dropped it with his breath - eyes hardened underneath his dirtied blond locks.

"Bring it."

"Hmph. Wonder where all this bravado came from, kid? Finally found your balls?"

"Nope. Still at your mom's."

To his credit, Vul paused before slamming the hilt of his scythe into the grass and bursting out in husky laughter. "You're a fast learner, kid, a real fast learner." His weapon spun around in another beautiful rotation - stopping as the top was aimed at Jaune's neck. "But I think it's time we see how fast you _really_ are."

The answer was not very. Both sides knew that. But despite it, Jaune stood his ground as the huntsman burst forward at unbelievable speeds. All he had to do was take a step.

…

Oh shit.

He couldn't move his body.

It seemed as though all the physical activity not half an hour prior had taken its toll on his mortal form. Jaune's body had apparently shut down his connection to his muscles - not trusting the teen to use his access to them responsible. Damn it, biology!

He wanted to scream at his mentor, but couldn't find his own voice; the scythe already closing in onto his neck. The blond shut his eyes and wished for the darkness to take over - to soften his impending doom.

And, sure enough, complete black came over his vision.

/-/

Why wasn't the kid moving?

As Qrow sped towards his target, Harbinger spun dangerously around his body.

Was it some sort of ploy? It had only been a month, there was no way he had already learnt about making his opponent feel overly confident in an attack; that was at least number thirty-eight on the list.

They were still in the first five.

Seeing him close his eyes tightly and grit his teeth was the first sign that something was amiss. But with the swing already in motion, aimed straight at the neck - Qrow could only do so much to mitigate the damage. His intention was never to actually hit the kid with the scythe, only make it seem like the danger was there so that he dodged. Or, at least _attempted _to.

Because if he at least did _that,_ he would have been fine.

Looks like that was about to change.

Within the small frame of time he was given, the huntsman flipped Harbinger onto its flat surface and moved his weapon up so that he would strike the poor guy's temple instead of his neck.

Of course, the teen was sent flying backward but if he still had Aura - a bruise or bump on his head was the worst he would wake up with. Maybe a ringing headache, too. He crashed into the nearby incline, kicking up dirt and dust at the impact.

He didn't think he had Aura left.

_Eh, he'll be fine._ _Probably._

Qrow could feel a headache of his own start to act up. "Ah, shit…" Harbinger's hilt was placed onto the grass one more. "I guess that means we're done with training for the day."

It seemed like a good idea. The kid rolled down onto the floor, against the incline they had slid down earlier - drool flowing out of the side of his mouth and chest rising and lowering rhythmically. Okay, great, he wasn't dead. Qrow had to count his eggs before they burst into flames, as you do.

"Why am I even doing this?" The huntsman put a hand to his face, eyes buried into his palm before he let out an explosive, alcoholic sigh.

Ruby had been enough. The incessant begging from his cute, tiny niece plus Tai's pleading in the form of bribery and many, _many, _bottles of whiskey. Vul's sigh turned into a small chuckle. The only time Tai ever encouraged his vice was for his daughter's sake.

Through his fingers, Qrow turned a gaze to the teen lying several meters away from him - who was knocked out six different ways of cold. Crimson eyes bored onto his unconscious form. Jolly ol'Nick's kid, then?

Nicholas was a real piece of work back at Beacon. A real stickler for family pride and honour - to the point where it got under the skin of even his sister Raven. The only other person to do that was Tai himself.

The huntsman chuckled at his own joke.

Papa Arc's honour-bound attitude was something he eventually grew out of - with the meeting of his eventual wife, Juniper. But even in his little phase, the drive to save was something that was non-negotiable about his spirit.

It was something he saw in Summer. Something he saw in Ruby.

And something he saw in Jaune.

He removed his hand from its sprawl across his face and walked toward the kid. Right now, he was just that. A kid with a sword and a dream. But Qrow would do everything he could to make him a huntsman, not a hero.

There were no heroes out there.

And while he could never tell Ruby that, he felt as though it was something that Nicholas' kid would understand through experience. Sometimes Ruby was too much like her mother for her own good.

Qrow shook the thought from his head, instead laying eyes on the hoodie that the teen below him wore.

"Now," he said quietly, admiring the bunny on the blond's hoodie, "where the hell am I going to find you some armour?"

* * *

Jaune gasped, desperate to get air in his lungs - water and toothpaste dripping from his chin as he choked.

Dumb oral hygiene. Hopefully, his Sapphire or her mother didn't hear him think that.

He had put his toothbrush a little too deep down the back of his tongue, triggering his gag reflex. While the teen was most-definitely used to waking up in the early hours of the morning, that most-_definitely_ didn't mean that he had to like it. Jaune put his toothbrush onto the bathroom countertop, swiping at the glass on the table to rinse out the remaining substances within his mouth.

Left side, right side, gargle…

"You know, a whole-lotta girls would find that to be a _huge_ turn-off." The feminine voice giggled manically. "I'm pretty sure that goes for guys too." They did? How… wait.

Feminine?

The blond did a spit-take all over the bathroom mirror - water mixed with toothpaste and saliva creating a pattern that probably would have sold well at an art gallery if it wasn't made of… well, spit.

"Who the hell are you?" Jaune backed up against the bathroom counter, which spanned several meters across the area. He turned, only to meet the face of a cyan-eyed, ginger-haired girl with a bad case of crazy eyes staring directly into his own.

"Well, that's just rude!" The girl yelled, despite it being extremely early in the morning. It was inhuman how anybody could have this much energy at this time of day. "This is a public space, after all."

He shook his head wildly as if trying to forcibly extract the thought from his memory banks. "This is the _boys' _bathroom!" Beacon was insane enough to have a unisex slumber party, but Gods forbid there being unisex bathrooms full of hormonally imbalanced teenagers. Why?

Case in point - right in front of Jaune.

A figure further down the long countertop was calmly brushing his own teeth, vibrant pink-eyes flickering to Jaune and his assailant. They returned to the mirror soon enough, however, the back and forth motion of his hand slowly came to a halt - gaze snapping back. They widened, which was admittedly was not by a large amount (and Jaune didn't think that was racist, just pointing out the facts), as the black-haired teen bolted to the scene and leaving his toothbrush in the sink.

"Oh, heya, Renny! I was just- whoop!" The hyperactive girl was taken by the shoulders and spun backward, the other boy taking her place in front of Jaune.

Getting a head-on view of the new appearance, Jaune was able to more clearly pinpoint the teen to be eastern Mistrali in descent. If his facial features and exotic eye-colour weren't enough - his traditional green gi, patterned with black and trimmed with gold, most definitely was.

"I apologise for my friend," he said with a scarily soft tone of voice, "she has been like this since youth. I would know, seeing as though I spent most of my own with her."

Jaune stared down the boy warily. Giving the eastern teen a quick up and down, he was still extremely eager to know, "Why is she in the boy's bathroom?" Indeed, it was the question that desperately required an answer - or so Jaune thought.

The other sighed, rubbing a hand into his hair, "She was extremely insistent on spending the morning with me, seeing as we've known each other for years, and I didn't see a problem with it since it was so early in the morning."

Well, Jaune heavily disagreed with that sentiment.

He then extended the same hand to Jaune, "Quite evidently, I see now that was a lapse in my judgment. My name is Ren. Lie Ren. My friend here is-"

"Nora Valkyrie, at your service!" The now identified Nora had appeared next to Ren, putting her own hand behind her friend's - creating something of a double hand for Jaune to shake - all the while giving an energetic smile. Her other hand was in a faux-salute as she stemmed from over Ren's shoulder.

He couldn't explain it, but Jaune was strangely endeared by the sight before him.

The only blond between the three took the hands offered to him, introducing himself. "Jaune," he smiled. "Jaune Arc. It's nice to meet you…?"It came out as more of a question, really.

As soon as they interlocked palms, Nora fiercely began to shake with a monstrous amount of strength. Jaune almost fell over at the swift change in momentum.

Ren looked apologetic, chuckling as he spoke, "Likewise. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Jaune; even if we were to have met under other circumstances I am almost certain that it would have ended up like this anyway.

Thankfully, Nora stopped her vicious shaking, disappearing in a pink and white poof - reappearing behind Jaune. She leaned in with a hand covering Ren's view of her mouth, but speaking loud enough for him to hear, "That's a _good_ thing, Jauney! Can I call you Jauney?"

"I-"

"Jauney it is! I'll see you around, Jauney! Come on, Ren, let's see if they got _pancakes_ for breakfast." Before he could even answer, Nora vanished once more next to her friend - wrapping her arm into Ren's and began to drag him out of the bathroom. While she hummed a jolly tune, the eastern teen dipped a hand into the sink he was once at to retrieve his toothbrush and waved weakly to the blond.

Watching the two slowly leave was most definitely a solemn sight. Jaune had no idea how that boy - no, _man -_ could have lived out his life with a… a _Nora._

He gave Ren the only gesture that seemed appropriate. With a stern glare and furrowed brows, the teen gave the brave solider a salute. Ren stopped waving, looking at him like he did something wrong, before eventually shaking his head and returning the gesture as he was removed from Jaune's line of sight.

What a man.

He finished up his early morning freshening, wiping away his spit from the mirror with a grimace and patted down his trouser pockets for his scroll. Having already changed out of his pyjama's, Jaune thought that heading out to check his gear would have been a better use of his time - the Gods knew he sure had a lot of it. And while Ren and Nora were seemingly going out to get breakfast, the blond had very much gotten used to working efficiently with a small amount in his gut to work with.

Clad only in his worn Pumpkin Pete's hoodie, black combat trousers and tightly laced boots, Jaune felt prepared enough to head out.

"Alright, Beacon," he muttered, making his way out of the bathroom and heading towards where he knew the lockers were, "let's see what else you have in store for me."

/-/

"…and that is why I believe we should be partners. What do you think, Pyrrha?"

She thought it was absolutely- "Grand. That sounds… splendid, Weiss."

Weiss Schnee closed her eyes, mouth turned into a small smile as she replied - oblivious to Pyrrha's own discomfort. "Why, I knew that you'd understand… you really are just on another level than some of the other people here." Her smile turned to a frown as she slouched slightly as if thinking about someone who fit the description.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, grimaced internally while keeping her own smile on the outside.

On another level? She came to Beacon to be treated less like some untouchable goddess of the arena and more like a… well, anything _but _that. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to believe that her fame wouldn't have spread to Vale. Even Atlas had heard of her. It could have just been Weiss herself, but that didn't seem likely.

And her discomfort was not directed at Weiss either. She was a nice enough girl, at least to her, if a little rough on the edges. It was more so that her conversations always revolved around her skill and position as the four-time Mistral Regional Champion. Something that the champion herself wasn't too keen on as a main topic of discussion.

"I don't think that-" She trailed off, hearing a masculine voice cut into the two girls' conversation. It was quiet, but the sound caught Pyrrha's ear nonetheless.

"Locker six-three-six, locker six-three-six…" Behind Weiss was a tall, blonde-haired teen - taller than Pyrrha herself with her heels. In his right hand was a scroll, which he seemed to be inspecting quite thoroughly, while the other lay on his chin.

His head flickered upwards to the locker nearest to him, moving forward to inspect the number. "Two-two-one? What the- I swear this was the same route from yesterday." Those same sapphire eyes turned to meet Pyrrha's own, then moving to the white head of hair in front of her - to which he widened his eyes and started walking over.

Weiss, of course, was less than interested in some random person - instead continuing her conversation with the red-head.

Crossing her arms, the heiress of the SDC had a distasteful tint in her eye as she spoke, "Honestly, you would not believe the kind of people they let into Beacon. Just yesterday I saw a _child -_ yes, a _child_ \- running across Beacon's courtyard like some sort of playground! Can you believe it?"

"Perhaps it was just a short girl with a speed Semblance?" Pyrrha tried.

In return, Weiss rolled her eyes, their gaze coming down back onto the floor with a hazed - almost confused - look. "Then the very same night of that day, she spoke profoundly about the philosophy of becoming a huntress." She scoffed soon after, "It's wonder why she had to be saved by that boyfriend of hers after she blew up my dust supply."

"Well, it _was_ an accident. And I am _not_ her boyfriend…"

Weiss gasped as she jumped back, drawing her rapier in the process. The chamber within the guard spun rapidly, landing on red - forcing the patterns on the weapon to glow an ominous crimson. The figure behind her raised his hands in surrender, cringing at how close the blade was to his neck.

"…Arc? Why on Remnant are you here at this time of day? And don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people?" The girl questioned.

His irises flashed down to the tip of Weiss' rapier and back up to her rapidly, eyes pleading. She narrowed her gaze before sheathing it, the colour of the weapon fading as it was no longer needed.

`Arc` let out a breath, lowering his hands as he answered back, "I'll have you know I wasn't sneaking up on you, Ice Queen, I thought that I made my presence here pretty clear." His tone of voice was factual - and somewhat snarky. Pyrrha did have to agree that he made himself loud enough to be noticed, at the very least. He then cringed as Weiss stomped her foot the to ground and onto his own boot. No doubt, the heel was stuck into it roughly.

"Ow, ow, ow!" He whimpered.

"_Ice Queen? _Why, you-"

"Now, now," It was Pyrrha's turn to intervene. She didn't want to cause a ruckus this early in the morning, that was for sure. "Why don't we all take a breath and start over? Perhaps we got off on the wrong…" She considered the wording, giving into the low hanging fruit, "foot."

The heiress looked back at the champion, eyes widening and mouth opening in confusion before she did just that - turning around and breathing in deeply. She crossed her arms stiffly, pivoting on her heel as she glared at the new arrival - trying once more at addressing him.

"What do you want, Arc?" She sneered, nose in the air.

"Not quite what I was going for…" Pyrrha mumbled, her voice in a jovial tone despite her plan to get Weiss to act nicer backfired on her. She really should have taken into account that Weiss may make things worse by starting it all over.

His eyes glossed over Pyrrha, as if looking for something, before he addressed Weiss once more. "I was just wondering if you two could help me find my locker. I've never really had a knack for directions." He grimaced, appearing to be looking back on a past experience. Shaking his head, he continued, "So would you know where locker six-three-six is?"

Weiss looked like someone had shown her a picture of a particularly-shaped piece of dog excrement. "We're in a single room and you can't find your locker? You realise that they're all ordered by number, right?"

The blond looked to the locker to his side and the one after it, then onto his scroll, then back at Weiss. "They are?" Was his very contrite answer.

The Schnee heiress facepalmed, looking all but given up as she began to angrily mutter to herself about `idiot blondes` and the like.

Pyrrha sighed, hands interlinked in front of her as she took center stage, "This is the row with the number ones at the start, see?" She pointed at the nearest locker, which read `one-four-three`. The same hand pointed in a gap between the lockers opposite. "Keep going along and you'll find the row starting with sixes. With enough luck, you should find your own locker there."

He looked at her in disbelief, almost in awe - making Pyrrha regret her interjection into the conversation. Regardless, she kept her smile plastered onto her face as she internally winced, waiting for his reply.

"Wow. Thanks."

Was… that it? Was that all he had to say? Her emerald eyes found itself on Weiss, who's own eyes conveyed disbelief through the fingers of her facepalm.

Pyrrha prayed that she wouldn't regret asking, "Do you... know who I am?"

The boy's expression was confused, his eyebrow raised slightly. His mouth was pressed into a thinking pout, of sorts, to the side of his face. "Hm…" he said, "I can't say I do… should I?"

"Oh. My. God." Weiss cursed into her palm. Pyrrha couldn't relate, she was ecstatic! This boy didn't even know who she was - he was someone who could treat her like a regular person, a regular girl! The champion could barely contain her bright smile - her _real_ smile.

"Wait, now that you mention it…" Or not. The smile that bloomed wilted back to plastic, not that anyone could tell just by looking at her. But she could feel the glimmer of her soul dim as the thought drifted away. The blond clicked his fingers, "Beauty model."

The red-head perked her head back up, not knowing whether to be joyful or confused. Perhaps she could be both. While her agent definitely attempted to get her to accept the deals of numerous companies, she made it a point to stay adamant about not wanting to model.

She loved the fight and the pure exhilaration with no care for everything that came extra. "Excuse me?"

He took in a sharp breath through his teeth, creating something of hissing noise, "I'll take that as a no, then. Damn, I thought you looked like you could have fit the bill."

"E-excuse me?" Pyrrha managed. Weiss spluttered, thankful that her palm was in front of her mouth at the time. Was he… flirting with her? No, he couldn't have been. Simply stating facts.

Then did that mean he thought it a fact she was pretty enough to be a beauty model?

The boy paused, taking a second to realise what exactly he said. His deep-blue eyes were wide in shock, "Hold on! That's not what I meant! I mean you _are_ pretty, it's just- crap…" he seemingly gave up on trying to explain himself.

"It's… alright." It's not that Pyrrha didn't appreciate the compliment or anything.

He took another look at the champion, of which he seemingly didn't even know she was, his look narrowing - examining every inch of her. It made the red-head slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn't _that_ bad. Moving forward, he gently brushed past Weiss - something the heiress didn't take lightly - to get a closer look.

"Holy crap, you're-" Pyrrha's eyebrows flattened. Wishful thinking it most definitely was. Just when she thought she had found someone who- "the girl on the cover of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmellow Flakes cereal!"

It was apparent that Weiss had enough, as her voice cut in like a very shrieky and very high-pitched knife, "What are you even talking about, you _dunce!_ She's the fo-" Her light-blue eyes expressed bewilderment, her voice wasn't coming out as she meant it to. The reason being, Pyrrha's brown-gloved hand was firmly placed over her mouth.

"What Weiss _means_ to say is that `she's the fo-rtunate person who was chosen to be on the cereal box`! Isn't that right, Weiss?" The champion slowly removed her hand from the very confused heiress' mouth. Pyrrha mouthed `I'm sorry` silently as she did.

"Yes," Weiss agreed, keeping her eyes on Pyrrha. "That is exactly what I meant to say."

"That's amazing!" The action didn't seem to faze the boy, though. "Don't they normally only do that for star athletes and celebrities, though?"

"Oh, you know, just the small tournament here and there is enough to get you on anything these days as long as it's in the right timeframe," the champion waved off. Please work, please work, please work-

"Yeah, I guess you're right," the boy agreed. Yes! "It's a shame really. I haven't gotten to have any for what feels like an entire year."

"Perhaps that is for the best. I do have to admit, the cereal is quite bad for you," she lamented.

"It might not be good _for_ you, but there is absolutely no denying that it's _good." _The blond shrugged his shoulders, bringing to attention the logo at the forefront of his hoodie.

Pyrrha had to ask, only vaguely aware of what it was, "Is that the-"

"Limited edition Pumpkin Pete's Marshmellow Flake's hoodie - large size? Yes. Yes, it is." He shut his eyes proudly and Pyrrha did have to admit it was quite adorable how he was so invested in the brand.

"That is the one where you-"

"Collect fifty box tops spanning across three different variations of the cereal and mail it to Pumpkin Petes Pumpkin Patch Headquarters in Mistral? Yes. Yes, it is."

Silence came over the two, the only other sound being skin rubbing against skin as Weiss furiously ran her hand up and down her face. It didn't last long, however, as Pyrrha (unsuccessfully) stifled a giggle behind her glove.

It faded, and the champion's voice was soft - almost as if she was in the middle of a thought. "You really are a fan of the cereal, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Was his reply. Just the cereal. Not her, but the cereal itself. A warm smile - a _genuine_ smile - came across Pyrrha's features - the plastic of the previous ripped away. "My mother always used to bring it home from work and me and my sisters would just tear into the boxes."

"Sisters?" Her emerald eyes shone, happy for someone to finally talk about themselves and not about her success as a fighter.

The boy placed his hands on his hips as he stated, "Seven." His eyes closed, seeming almost proud of the fact.

"Seven? You're joking."

"Oh, I wish I was," he paused, expression turning sullen for but a moment. "I take that back…" he corrected, "I wouldn't swap them out for anything in the world."

"That's so sweet," she said truthfully, head tilting slightly to the side. Hesitantly, her hand reached out to his shoulder, looking into his eyes, "Why don't you tell me about them?"

His blue eyes regained their gemstone-like glint, "Yeah, I think… I think I'd like that." Pyrrha retracted her hand, gesturing for him to start. "Well, there's the eldest of all of us, Sapphire…"

/-/

"…and that's why we believe that strangers are friends that you just haven't met yet," he finished with a proud smile. The two were still standing, deep in an interactive conversation about his family and their outlook on life.

"That was quite the story," The red-head said, recalling his multiple tales. So his ancestors were taken in by a foreign, but extremely powerful individual in their time of desperate need - prompting their descendants to follow suit. How interesting. "Wouldn't you agree, Weiss?"

"Huh?" The heiress sat up ramrod straight from her lying position on the bench in the middle of the aisle. During Pyrrha's riveting interaction, she had grown tired of being the third wheel so early in the morning. Her sitting turned to her getting some shut-eye instead and the champion couldn't help but find it quite amusing.

"Y-yes, of course, Pyrrha. Very-" Weiss yawned, putting her hand to her mouth, "-very interesting indeed.

"Holy crap!" The blond yelled suddenly, causing Weiss and Pyrrha to flinch.

"What's wrong?"

He pointed to his scroll, showing that hours have passed by. Pyrrha could have sworn it was only a fifteen-minute or so conversation but her own eyes widened in realisation.

"We're late! And I still don't have my stuff! I'll, uh, catch you around..."

"Pyrrha," she completed.

"See you, Pyrrha. Buh-bye, Ice Queen!" He bolted past her and across the aisle - boots tapping heavily on the floor - taking a sharp turn where there was a gap in the lockers to get to where Pyrrha told him his own locker would be.

Her gaze was solemn as the red-head watched him go. "Bye…" she waved to nobody in particular. Her hands then interlinked once more in front of her skirt as she turned to head to where Initiation would take place, only to meet the face of a Weiss with an eyebrow raised so high - it would make other people's eyebrows rise at the sight.

"With Arc. Jaune Arc? Really, Pyrrha, you can do so much better than that." So his name was Jaune Arc? It had a nice ring to it. Short and sweet, rolling off the tongue in a way.

But Pyrhha couldn't help but twitch - her mask cracking; her facade breaking. Slowly but surely, fragments of the plastic visage she had built up over the years began to fall from her face.

Maybe it was the tone of her voice, maybe it was what she said, but whatever it was - it made something snap within Pyrrha. She wasn't one for outbursts, let alone one against a girl she had just met, however, the champion couldn't help but feel... _offended. _

Something foreign bubbled up within the depths of her stomach, vile and ugly.

"And since when were _you_ the one to decide who I can and cannot talk to, Mother?" She said sternly, eyes sharp like daggers - stabbing into the other girl's soul. Weiss took a step back, no doubt unexpecting of Pyrrha's words.

Green irises opened, eyebrows raised, lips trembling, "Weiss, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No," the heiress said, regaining herself. "No, it was my fault. I'm sorry, Pyrrha. That was out of line of me to say." And for whatever reason, both girls couldn't meet each other's eyes. Even if they did both have an understanding of why. "How about we get to Initiation, then? It wouldn't do to be late after we both woke up so early?"

"Of course," Pyrrha stepped to the side, gesturing a hand in front of her towards the exit - wanting Weiss to lead on. "That sounds grand."

Grand indeed.

/-/

Alright.

Tightening the last of his reinforced leather pads across his body, Jaune began to count up the number of labelled canisters on the belts around his torso, waist and around the top half of his thigh. "One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two… where's the last-? Eh." He instead shrugged it off. The misplacement of a single piece of equipment could cause his death on the field, or so Vul says, but this was Beacon's Initiation. He was hardly going to get mortally wounded here, right? Right.

Shrugging off the missing grenade, Jaune instead focused on the two boxes that had handle grips sticking out towards him, ready to draw. Those were present too, all that was left was…

The teen's eyes were drawn to the last weapon that lay within his locker. Nodding, he took the sheathed blade in his right hand, looking over its surface, "Well, time you and me show everyone what we're capable of, right buddy?" Jaune kept staring at the brilliant piece of steel before shaking his head. "Just a sword, Jaune. Just your… family heirloom sword that has persisted over centuries. …"

On his left metal bracer was a small slot, in which Jaune slid Crocea Mors into so that the hilt faced outwards - ready to draw at a moment's notice. It was something that Vul had suggested once he had once again found his weapon in the ruins of that town. Even a year later, Jaune's heart dropped along with his head at the thought.

Time heals all wounds, huh? Maybe if he was stronger…

_Don't be an idiot._

_You're stronger now._

_You went through hell's gauntlet with a caped, insane alcoholic with obvious issues._

_You're at Beacon, the place where you always dreamed of going._

_It wasn't for nothing. Prove it to them._

No.

He'd prove it to all of them. He'd prove it to himself.

With a satisfying click, Crocea Mors was secured and ready. Giving his locker a final look, the slight glint of white drew his attention. Dipping his hand within the metal contraption, his fingers clasped around the small accessory - a small, crooked cross with a ring around the top to pierce the bottom of his ear. It was the Vul's parting gift to him just before he left to trek Forever Fall to Beacon.

Jaune could have put it on in the moment, however, a quick glance at his scroll proved that to be a false notion. Clasping his hand into a fist, the teen held the earring tightly in his palm and shut his locker. He could always put it on later.

Now happy with his gear, the blond nodded with a newfound determination. All he had to do was run like no tomorrow to the cliffside where Professor Ozpin would give them the debrief on what exactly was to happen. And run Jaune did, footsteps echoing loudly in the locker room where a few other latecomers were doing just the same.

Something about that man, caught Jaune's attention, however.

Not just his Aura, which was compact, condensed and repelling of sorts - but his voice as well. Jaune didn't have the best memory, but such a tone of voice was one that he must have heard before - even if he didn't know where. Was it before or after his training?

Maybe he was reading too much into it, the man _was _the headmaster of the prestigious Beacon Academy, it was possible Jaune had heard him idly on TV once or twice.

But it came back to his Aura, why exactly did it have that effect on him? It had never happened before, not with anyone. It was common knowledge, or at least he was told it was by Vul, that Aura was the outward manifestation of the soul.

It begged the question, what did it mean for the Headmaster's soul to be so… full?

Explaining the metaphysical was something that Jaune wasn't versed in. He just sort of _understood _it, in a way. Putting it in words was so much harder. If only he-

"Oof!" He moaned, hitting something in his way as he made to turn the corner toward the exit.

"Ah!" Or someone, it seemed; a feminine voice cried softly as both she and Jaune hit the floor.

It didn't hurt, per se, it just knocked him backward and straight onto his ass. Getting a look at who exactly he, quite literally, bumped into - it was the same girl from last night that was with Ruby, Weiss and Yang. She wore black and white as well as having that same bow from the sleepover. Her name was…

"Blake?" Jaune guessed, voice quizzical and hesitant. It sure would be awkward if he got it wrong.

The black-haired girl took longer to recover, eyes scrunched up like she smelt something that expired. Slowly opening her own, amber regarded him, "It was… Jaune, right? From last night, Ruby's friend?"

He shuffled as he made to stand, debating whether or not he should offer a hand to her. In the end, his inner gentleman won out as he extended a gloved hand for Blake to take.

"Yeah…" Jaune said, "that's me." His voice now was slow. Blake took the hand with quiet thanks and Jaune pulled her onto her feet. If this conversation lasted any longer, Jaune knew that he had to be careful about what he said and how he said it.

Blake nodded, about to whirl around to exit the locker room until her golden eyes fixated onto the floor, a slight glimmer gaining her attention. "You dropped this," she noted, making to bend down and pick it up for Jaune.

"No!" His hand sped forward and grasped tightly around Blake's black-wrapped forearm, to which he quickly released after realising what he just did. The girl retracted her own arm, cradling it with her free hand. Jaune only had one word in his mind.

Shit.

So, he'd gone against one of Vul's core teachings - keeping a cool head and not letting your emotions get the better of you. But that didn't mean that he couldn't correct himself with another one of his mentor's other fundamental lessons.

Sometimes a smooth tongue was all you needed to get out of a sticky situation.

Okay, so maybe Vul had been drunk at the time of saying this and it was entirely possible that he was most certainly _not_ referring to talking your way out of bad cases but damn it, Jaune would take what he would get from his teacher's - at times - nonsensical advice.

Jaune steeled himself, swallowing the slightest amount of saliva in his mouth. Blake, on the other hand, looked at Jaune with an air of suspicion. Her eyebrows narrowed slightly, and the slow rubbing of her forearm began to cease.

"It's just that it's a gift from someone really important to me," Jaune said, wondering how vague or specific he should be. If he was too vague, Blake may call him out, but if he was too specific, he may get muddled in the details. "I'd rather you not touch it."

The girl's eyes darted to the earring that Jaune had his hand over. The teen was now kneeling over it, waiting for Blake to respond so that he could make his next move.

"Right… I'm sorry, I guess." She wasn't and they both knew it. "I'm going to head to Initiation."

"Yeah. I'll see you there."

"Yeah." Sure enough, Blake gave Jaune a side-glance, golden eyes almost glowing, before her shoes tapped away swiftly - getting quieter with every step.

The teen breathed a sigh of relief, coming out as a hiss between his teeth. That had been way too close for comfort. He picked up the fallen earring and began to fasten it to his ear. "Stupid earring, stupid Vul, stupid luck…"

With the parting gift now secure in his ear, he followed where Blake went - to where he could see the green of a forest spanning across the entire horizon of a large, open door frame.

/-/

"With all that said, the first person that you make eye-contact with will be your partner for the next four years."

A resounding `What?!` could have been heard all the way from Vale proper. The blonde woman next to Professor Ozpin, Glynda Goodwitch, visibly shook her head in an exasperated manner, holding a monitor against her chest.

With an ever-present smile, Ozpin looked immensely pleased with himself as he finished, "So, are there any questions?" He looked back and forth at the hundreds of applicants, only to find a single hand raised. His eyes studied the hand before trailing down the arm to the person who it belonged to. How interesting.

"Yes, Mister Arc?"

Jaune Arc's arm came back to his front, as he asked, "So you're going to launch us off of this cliff?" The teen's hand pointed a finger into the almost infinite canopy of leaves and branches in the distance behind the older man.

"That is correct."

"And you aren't giving us anything to help us?

Well, that would go against what he aimed to do here - obviously, Ozpin would not. "No, Mister Arc, you will be devising your _own_ landing strategy."

One of the boy's hands came to the back of his head, "Wouldn't, uh… wouldn't a drop from this high kill a person without Aura? Like, a regular guy? Even then, if you landed wrong you would still probably end up heavily injured."

"Of course it would." Ozpin raised an eyebrow, "Where exactly are you going with this, Mister Arc?"

He seemed to recoil slightly under the headmaster's words but continued nonetheless, "It's just that if some hopeful guy who managed to fake his transcripts to get into Beacon and was launched from a cliff this high and, well… died - wouldn't that the fault of the school for not stopping them? And if not, doesn't that kind of put into question the policy of the school itself?"

Beacon operated an arms-length away from the Kingdom of Vale's council, instead of functioning under Ozpin and his own faculty instead. Even so, if a decision was heavily enough backed, they could cross that short distance if they tried.

Ozpin had never, and had no plans to, let that happen - however. The council could _try _all they wanted, but they would never succeed. He would make sure of that. The headmaster regarded the boy with the same blank stare and the words kept on flowing out of the young boy's mouth.

Jaune crossed his arms, adopting a more thoughtful look as his blue pupils darted to the top of his eyes, almost having his own epiphany of sorts, "I mean, some people here have fancy Semblances or weapons that can turn into, like, six different things. What if someone here had Remnant's most mundane Semblance - say, one that let them create tiny rocks out of Aura - and a dagger. Wouldn't they just be completely screwed too?"

The headmaster tilted his head to the side by half of a degree, still smiling.

"I just think that this could have been more inclusive, you know? Some kids are out there with dreams of becoming a huntsman, and I think this kind of limits who can and can't follow their dreams. As aspiring huntsman and huntresses, shouldn't we be able to encourage those kind people without throwing them straight into the deep end when the gods give them iron boots to wear?"

A few people around the boy turned from the teen to Ozpin, eyes all asking the same question. Even Glynda shot him a raised eyebrow. In response, the headmaster instead took a sip from his inscribed mug - releasing a satisfied sigh at the end.

"Sir?"

The launching pad under Jaune's feet exploded forth, sending the poor boy sailing through the air - his screams and shouts still loud and clear to everyone. Some people looked up at him in horror, some flashed back to Ozpin with their mouths agape. Glynda let out an audible sigh, pinching her nose in that way she always did.

She understood, really - she did.

"Now," Ozpin said calmly, "do we have any other questions?"

"Me, sir." A feminine voice called, hand raised and all.

This certainly was shaping up to be an interesting year.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Wohoho that's 10k words, yikes. I'll try cut down the lengths in the future unless you guys like it.**

**Also poor Jaune. All he wanted to do was point out the flaws in the system! And who is this person who raised their hand? Are they someone important or a random whats-his-name?**

**Did I do a Pyrrha right? I probably sound dumb for always doubting how I do these character interactions but I can't help but always re-read those sorts of things, wondering how I can make it more natural and fluent. Funnily enough, that's probably why I like writing Qrow; he probably doesn't give a fuck how he's written anyway.**

**There are a couple of other things I could touch and hint on but I won't say much more. I would like to keep **_**some**_** element of surprise, you know.**

**I forgot to add it in the A/N of the last chapter, but there was a part in Ruby's sleep over speech where she swapped out a male pronoun for a female one. It was to signify how in the end she was thinking of her mother, though I don't think anyone actually got that…**

**I'm also writing these notes like a week after I've written the chapter itself. Currently writing chapter 6 at the time of writing this note, though when this goes up I'll probably be working on a further one. Keeping ahead of schedule is key, but also sort of hard at times.**

**As always, feel free to help me improve this story and…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	5. Chapter 5: Initiation, Start!

**Author's Notes:**

**Let's get right into the action this time.**

**I actually considered the names `The Arc of a Black Bird's Wing` and `The Shape of a Black Bird's Arc` for this fic and I'm still unsure whether or not this name is coolio. ****Such is the shame of considering in hindsight.**

**Also, I _do_ read all reviews - and there are a couple that I actually want to answer concerning questions or ideas about the fic itself, characters or ideas. It's just that I'm unsure if I should answer them _here_ or PM people. There are reasons for this:**

**1\. I don't want to artificially inflate word count via answering questions.**

**2\. If I answer certain questions, it may ruin the aspects or plot points in the story's future.**

**Anyhow, enjoy the chapter! Let's see how Jaune's doing after what happened at the end of the last one.**

* * *

"Hoooooolyyyy shiiiiit!"

His entire body rotating fully over and over at different angles as the teen was sent flying through the air. Jaune had genuine concerns for the safety of the other students, damn it! What if he actually managed to fake his way into Beacon and then _this_ happened?!

What kind of headmaster was Ozpin?! Was he really the one running Beacon? Then again, there were huntsmen who were equally as questionable - such as his own mentor - who roamed around the lands of Remnant. You know, maybe it wasn't too farfetched of a concept to grasp.

Not like it made Jaune feel any better, though.

Such questions, including `how the hell am I going to land?!`, raced through Jaune's head as he felt the intense winds rush across his skin. However, there was good and bad news concerning his current situation.

The good news was he wasn't going to get any faster, the blurry green of the Emerald Forest treetops not getting any worse. The bad news was that it was only that way because he had just hit terminal velocity from the combined momentum forward and downwards.

Essentially, Jaune couldn't go any faster because he was already moving way too fucking fast.

A blur of black, hints of red streaming from its eyes, caught Jaune's limited peripheral vision. It was a massive pitch-black bird wearing a patterned red bone-like mask. It was a Nevermore.

And it was massive.

Getting a grasp on his rotation, Jaune managed to level himself out – one arm spread wide – as he began to fumble with the belt around his combat-trousers.

"Come on, come on…!" He practically yelled to himself so that he could hear his own self-encouragement. If he was able to get a proper grasp on the handle, he could shoot the grapple into the flesh of the Grimm not too far above him.

That was assuming he could make the shot, but at this point - it's not like Jaune had many other options.

Since his velocity was aimed more horizontal than vertical, the strain he would place on his arms wouldn't be monumental and easily braced for with the reinforcement of his Semblance. All he had to do was grab the of the device on his belt.

Which, mind you, was extremely hard when moving at the fastest speeds a human of his size and weight could travel at.

Jaune's gloved fingers inched towards the handle, pushed back by the heavy force of the wind coming his way. Further and closer it creeped until his palm grasped the device and held on tightly – ready to use it.

At least that _was_ the plan until Jaune sensed the very familiar presence of something he would never forget the feeling of. Spending a year with a man on a mysterious mission tended to heighten this very sense. There were times when it was Grimm, other times it was a bandits or the White Fang – but one thing remained constant between these aspects.

Danger. Jaune could sense the danger behind him.

With great struggle, the teen tore his head back to get a glimpse of glimmering metal. Was it just him, or did it seem to get bigger?

No, it was getting closer.

Jaune widened his eyes, now unburdened to do so as his entire form twisted backwards while the hand that was on his belt flashed to in front of his left arm to draw Crocea Mors. There was no time to do anything else but desperately try defend himself.

The object seemed to appear in front of the blond in what seemed like an instant. That meant it was moving way faster than his own terminal velocity. And that meant whoever threw this had some monstrous strength and an unexplainable desire to see him impaled on the wrong side of it.

With a practiced motion, the war-worn but brilliant steel of Crocea Mors came forth to bat the weapon aside with a sharp clang. In the instant it wasn't just an obscure image from its own speed, Jaune could barely make it out to be a red spear? Javelin? Whatever the speeding spike was, it was sent upwards with a clash of metal – even higher than where the Nevermore flew, catching it on the wing.

Right, that was the plan earlier, the Nevermore… too bad that was out the window and into the Grimmlands now. Jaune was out of real options.

Deflecting that javelin seemed to be the correct option, and in many ways it was - since one of those ways meant he was still alive - but it had also recalculated his route straight down into the forest below.

Like the good man Ivyac Newton said, for every force exerted, an equal and opposite force will be too. And with the spear going up thanks to Jaune's strike, it looked as though the only other thing he would be hitting was rock bottom.

Sent hurtling toward the canopy below, the deep green of thick leaves and branches clouded his sight and Jaune had hoped that his Semblance would be able to prepare him for his inevitable crash landing `strategy`.

Hoping was all it was because he knew it was going to hurt like hell no matter what he did.

* * *

_Ten Months to the Start of Beacon_

* * *

He landed flat on his back, the feeling of shark rocks against his skin piercing his light, leather breastplate and hoodie combined. Granted, the latter offered little protection, but then again neither did the leather. What was even the point of it?

"Move, kid! Roll!" His mentor's gruff voice echoed from the dilapidated ruins of what looked to be a shop of sorts behind him. It was replaced with a grunt as the sound of waving steel met the flesh of a Grimm.

Jaune did just that, his teeth grit and eyes widened as he narrowly avoided the claw of an adolescent Ursa that was aimed straight at his midsection. The ivory point was stuck into the stone under him and very much not through him.

Right, that was the point of the leather. That probably would have been much harder with a full-body of plate mail. Lighter, and hence easier to move in, Jaune was able to get back onto a knee and pushed himself backwards off of his bent leg.

Putting himself back into a rough approximation of a two-handed swordsman's stance, Jaune noticed the distinct lack of shield to protect himself with. His blue eyes, tinted with mud and dirt, looked to where he was knocked down to see the round piece of metal he was given as a replacement to Crocea Mors' shield.

It was crude, but cheap. So was the sword that he held in his hands. Lien was something that his teacher didn't seem to have a lot of. And with the ever lingering scent of alcohol around the man, it wasn't hard to conjure a possible reason why.

The teen then realized a critical mistake as his eyes came back to his opponent, giving himself enough time to widen them and dodge the wild charge of the monster before him. Jaune's shoulder met the dirt and dust of the ground, the teen once again narrowly avoiding an attack.

_Dodging Grimm was way easier when I first started training with Vul, why is it so hard now? _He thought, panting heavily at the strain his body was under.

To be fair, the only task he was given then was to run away from them, and now he had to actually score hits. The added concentration for dexterity and energy to make those strikes effective definitely stockpiled on his body's demand for energy.

The Ursa in front of him let out a feral cry, its claws ripping to its sides as the beast stood on its hind legs. Man, what was Vul doing right now? This was all his idea!

He said that he wanted to check out this town concerning some leads on an overarching mission he was sent on. Little did he know, the place he wanted to visit had been ransacked and torched a while ago – leaving behind an ugly scorched landscape. Even with the time passed, the negativity lingered. And with negativity inevitably came the creatures of Grimm.

Jaune cursed slightly as he saw the Ursa Minor retract from its bipedal state, coming onto all fours to once again attack its prey. Dodge, was what his body told him to do – but his mind, shaped by his mentor in these last two months, told him he had to do more. He couldn't beat this beast if he just kept running away. So with this resolve, Jaune leveled his sword and prepared to strike.

The monster roared, not to intimidate – but instead to indicate pain. Jaune had to thank whatever made the Grimm to give them such single-minded tendencies. Roar, charge, claw, bite; it wasn't exactly hard to predict what they were going to do. Such reading allowed the teen to impale the coal-black side of the Ursa as Jaune timed his sidestep at the last second.

Hah, he did it! Jaune did what any self-respecting huntsman hopeful would do in that situation and fist pump his right hand.

"Oh… shit."

Clasping his palm and opening it again, Jaune noticed there was a distinct lack of sword hilt in his right hand. And as his sapphire eyes brought themselves to look upon the slowed Grimm's midsection… yep. Yeah, that was his sword, alright. And that was a very pissed Ursa.

_Cool it, Jaune. Keep a level head. You've been in worse situations before, haven't you? Like that one time you waved back at your middle school crush because you thought she was waving at you. You had no reason to know it was to that guy behind you who also coincidentally was your best and only friend. He was cool about it with you afterward, too. Not like that made it any better._

Didn't have to remind him about that one – his sisters Hazel and Jade definitely didn't let him forget. And nobody else really seemed to care and that sort of made him feel worse about the whole ordeal.

Contrary to his previous thoughts, having Vul save him for the third time was seeming like less and less of an appealing idea. Becoming indebted to the bastard who put you through hell on the daily was not something Jaune wanted on his wish list if he could help it. And help it he could, all that stood in the way of that goal was a seven-foot hulking mass of bear.

Easy.

In any case, Jaune didn't have a weapon and very much exposed. There only seemed to be a singular Grimm against him but all it took was a singular unexpected swipe or a singular mistake in his Aura flow to cost the teen his jugular – his oh, so precious jugular.

_"One mistake on the battlefield could cost you your life, kid. Don't lose your cool out there."_ Well, _thank_ you, Vul. All his mentor had done by saying that was make him panic further! One mistake on the battlefield…

That was right! This was a battlefield. And what his bastard of a teacher had told him just after they had met – everything on a battlefield helps you fight. It was why it was called that, after all.

Cerulean shone in the night of the decrepit ruins of the village around him – pupils darting around him looking something, anything to use. There were pieces of debris, broken planks of wood. No, they would be too awkward to wield correctly for him. The small rocks? His head turned the clock back to Vul throwing a stone straight throw a tree like a bullet.

He had to teach him to do that one day but for now, Jaune could only wish it was that simple.

Pivoting in a right angle, one of his eyes gave a side-glance to the wreckage of a two-floored shop. It was barely standing – however standing nonetheless. A single foundation of thin, worn and decaying oak. Easily kicked in or smashed. On its last leg, you could say.

Alright, not his A-game. Gods forgive him if Vul's sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

Both of Jaune's eyes snapped back to the Ursa, a vaguely psychotic grin on his face – wild and desperate. Taking in a deep breath, Jaune channeled his inner drunk and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Hey! Blubber-beater! How about you get that fat, old tootsie over here with that big, ugly mug? If you can even run after getting your ass beat by a scrawny sixteen-year-old!" Did it even understand what he was saying? Grimm _were_ mindless creatures, in a sense.

The feral burst of hell's guttural screech was all the answer Jaune needed as the Ursa did, in fact, understand. Roaring, the beast started charging once again, exactly as expected.

Timing.

Timing and balls. Those were to two things needed, imperative even, to make sure this plan went swimmingly.

"One…" All four paws crashed against the hard pavement below, cracking the cobble beneath with sickening crunches.

"Two…" Jaune steeled his nerves while the blood in his body boiled. Not yet… too far. _Breath in and out, Jaune._

"Thr- FUCK!" Timing and balls. Indeed, Jaune did not have a grasp on his bollocks yet – but in time, perhaps, he would. For now, however, the teen barely managed to save his hide with quick reaction times and a whole heap of adrenaline pumping through his veins; he managed to evade the quick and ivory claw with a rip of the leather on his side.

Alright, so he had miscalculated the distance between them quite extensively – almost resulting in his own death – but that's all fine. As Jaune once again tumbled onto the ground in a messy approximation of a roll, the very loud creaking and cracking and crashing of wood and glass alike meant that… meant that it worked!

_Had_ it worked?

A dirtied, blond mop of hair shot up as Jaune scrambled to his feet. Sure enough, he was met with a trapped Ursa, barely held down by the debris comprised of the walls and half of the floor above. For just a second, Jaune thought that was it – only to flinch back as the stirring of the beast under it began to growl darkly.

It wasn't enough! His blue eyes were drawn to the lone standing foundation, yet to collapse and holding the rest of the second floor up. Another rising growl – enough to warrant Jaune's nervous system to crack his output back to eleven yet again. His legs cried for respite while they burnt, exhausted from his earlier engagement.

In the midst of the pain, Jaune grit his teeth as he forced the last of his strength into his right leg, now in kicking range of the lone pillar of wood. It shone with a bright, white cloak of translucent energy as the poor piece of oak was sent hurtling through the fading light of dusk.

One ominous _scree_ of wood turned to two as the entirety of the remains of the second floor came crashing down onto the Grimm like a meteor shower. It might as well have been; especially sharp and long pieces of wood impaled the creature from above as a rain of more heavy-looking pieces of architecture hammered them further into the Ursa's coal flesh.

With a final cry, the bone of its white mask cracked, the beast's outermost layer of fur crumbling to ash as the decomposition began. Jaune's legs finally gave in, crumpling under his weight and leaving him in the kicked up dust to contemplate past decisions of his life.

"Grraagh!"

"AHHH!" His elbow exploded backwards in reflex, catching something in its devastating trajectory. Like an arrow flying from the taut string of a legendary archer's bow – its speed was almost invisible to the naked eye, homing onto its target like a single-minded killer with single-minded purpose.

"FUCK!" And it struck true. "Why the hell'd you do that, kid? Damn it, now its bleeding…" The gravelly – and additionally nasally – voice of his one and only instructor, Vul complained. Jaune couldn't help but feel the irritation burst from under his skin.

Serves him right.

He turned around the best he could with two dead legs, facing his master straight-on. "Why the hell did you sneak up on me, you bastard! That was entirely your fault! And where the hell were you; I almost died!" He screamed, completely unapologetic for his actions.

Vul held the back of his left forearm against his nose to stop the blood from spilling uncontrollably. "Is this the thanks I get for helping you learn to conduct your Aura better?"

"What?"

"Your Aura, idiot. What helped you bat away that piece of wood like an alcoholic bats away his crippling self-doubt and hatred with a shot of whiskey." The huntsman removed his forearm, cringing at the trickling of crimson. "Speaking of…" His free arm holstered his massive steel sword-sycthe-gun thing, grasping tightly on the flask at his hip – unclipping it from his belt.

Jaune himself cringed, "After what you just said, I don't think you should be drinking…"

"Probably." Dismissive and evasive. An attribute that Jaune learnt described most of his mentor's attitudes when discussing his quite obvious indulgence in his vices. The blond would admit, he was curious, even if it _was_ absolutely none of his business. His mother did always say that sometimes all you needed was someone to speak too. "Anyway, it's not for me, kid."

"Huh?" Jaune's eyes widened as the aging man chucked the flask underhanded toward him, catching it in both hands.

To his student's inquisitive (and vaguely suspicious) gaze, Vul's answer was quite simple. "You look like you could use it." He put a thumb to one of his nostrils and let out a powerful gust of air to the side – a deep red clot of blood on the ground the result of his labor.

Prying his scarily tight fingers from the container, Jaune's eyes lingered on his palm. And noticed how it shook so. "My first Grimm kill…"

"Well, actually no…"

Jaune tore his gaze from himself and looked to Vul. His voice light, he spoke, "What do you mean?"

In response, his mentor gave a smirk, "Aren't you full of questions? Come on, kid, you couldn't have forgotten." His eyebrows were raised suggestively, only to fall slowly as Jaune's expression almost begged for an answer. "Nevermind, I guess." Vul sighed, drooping down to sit opposite Jaune.

"I just… I just want to know."

Vul nodded absentmindedly, lips forming a small pout as his dark-red eyes drifted. "Guess you'd still be shaken up about it…" He sighed again, head dropping with the action. "When I found you – broken, bloodied, battered – you were on the verge of death. And surrounded by half a dozen or so Grimm…"

The boy held his breath, "…And?"

"Well," he said, "they all looked a whole lot worse than you did."

It was Jaune's turn to nod, shakily and afraid. Of course, it's not like he could really forget. It was the night he let Lyn die. He wasn't lying. He just wanted to _know. _

But why?

He asked himself that, even if he maybe knew the answer. Maybe he just wanted to make sure it all wasn't a dream. Maybe because everything happening was just so unreal. Jaune wanted to be a huntsman, but all of this? He didn't expect any of this. All of the grit, the pain, the destruction.

Two months. That was all the time he had spent with Vul. But in these two months, he had already seen so much more of this side of Remnant than he had in the past short sixteen years of his life. His sheltered life in the outback frontier of Mistral never would have exposed this to him. His own father never would have exposed this to him.

Maybe his father was right in that.

Eye drifted down to the flask in his hand. He was afraid. Afraid to ask the man opposite him, "This village was destroyed long ago wasn't it? There was never any… _information_ to gather, was there?" Voice rocking subtly, Jaune's eyes stay fixated on the metal of his mentor's flask.

Even if Jaune couldn't see it, he knew.

He knew just as he knew what happened that night two months ago. He knew that Vul would raise an eyebrow, drift his gaze upwards and stare into the shattered moon above and hum. And he hummed, like he acknowledged something that the teen across from him wouldn't understand. It pissed him off.

"It was an old, little village. Kuroyuri. Reports say a new type of Grimm came to existence here, only to _take_ existence away; both here and across the certain parts of Mistral's frontier." Vul's next words came out idly – passively – almost without a thought. "The same kind of Grimm that was at the town I found you at."

Jaune widened his eyes yet again, just for them to narrow again. Pristine metal glinted from the container within his grasp. Being close enough to it – and this time not being under pressure of copping a taste of the liquid within – he noticed there was a tiny engraving of what appeared to be words in the very corner of the material, so miniscule that you wouldn't be able to read it unless you really tried.

And try Jaune did.

The engraved metal spoke, `_With or without. Keep moving forward. – S`_

Under the growing twilight, surrounded by the floating ash of decaying creatures – descended from shadows – and the ruins of a long-gone town, Jaune uncapped the flask and drank. He'd get his subpar replacements for Crocea Mors back later.

Because, for some reason, this only felt like the beginning.

* * *

Brace.

His leather-clad body flashed with a bright cloak of royal white, tinted with gold. A moment it was, but within that singular moment his Aura folded over itself a dozen times over. Sure, it would burn out his supplies just about that fast too but it would all be worth it if helped Jaune ease the pain to come.

It didn't.

Crocea Mors still in his right hand, Jaune did what he could to prepare himself as he timed his impact with ground zero. Cradling his face within the back of his elbows, his arms created a cross shape to protect his vision from sharp branches, twigs and leaves alike.

Damn it, it felt like a swarm of especially pointy Lancer gunning it for his face!

Breaking past, Jaune escaped the canopy of the Emerald Forest and was closing in on the forest floor. Closer and closer, Jaune tore away his hands from his face and used them to redirect his face-first dive to be less potentially self-destructive. If the past year with Vul had taught him anything at all – meaning _absolutely anything_ out of the endless list of both equally useful _and_ completely unusable garbage he gave Jaune – it would be a certain lesson that strayed between the distinct lines.

It being, of course, _"If you know everything's going to go tits-up, might as well look as stylish as you can while the world burns around you, ey, kid?"_

Once again, Jaune's body was covered in a beautiful crackle of gold-tinted white as his Semblance flared up to do what he always dreamed of doing while sat back at home watching that season's young male teenage action fantasy.

What was it, you may ask? But a fraction of a second from contact with the ground Jaune smirked – delusional and forced. Nobody was there to see it, either, but he still wanted so badly to do it.

A god damn superhero landing, like in all the good movies and shows he had seen before.

His leather-padded knee _annihilated _the hard dirt beneath him. Or were those his bones? Jaune was in too much pain to really tell.

In any case, the ground gave in to his force – cracking violently, exploding from the epicenter. His hand was next, and gods did he regret putting his wrist down at the same time as his knee because god-_damn, _he didn't think his ball joint would ever be the same again.

Blond locks hid his eyes and he was thankful. His eyes were wide with from sudden, _painful_ shock as tears threatened to seep out. Hell, there was one escaping from the corner right now. Biting on his lip fiercely, Jaune took in a sharp breath of air.

"Nailed it…" He squeaked out.

_Nailed it._

What sounded like half a hundred barefooted steps arose from all angles around the landed teen. Dipping in and out of audible range, weaving through the greenery of the Academy's personal forest. Jaune was bordering on calling it a death-play ground, though. One where the parents would send their kids of for the day by launching them from the side of cliff a couple dozen kilometers high.

As you do.

But the unfortunate reality was that Jaune was attempting to distract himself from the fact he was going to have to fight Grimm after landing in the most amazing way possible (and you won't ever convince him otherwise). A huntsman he was to become and Grimm were one of the many adversities he would have to face on his path.

And now he was just trying to make himself feel better.

Letting out a shaky and _painful_ sigh, Jaune stood himself up and winced as the joints in his knee and wrist ached at the change of position. Crocea Mors was still in his right hand; the teen had used his left to `cushion` his landing, and his fingers were like a steel vice on the grip. Slowly, Jaune breathed away the pain as he took the stance he and Vul had created once Crocea Mors was retrieved.

His left arm, the one holding Crocea Mors' sheathe on the bracer, was outstretched but bent at the elbow. Following was his left leg, foot scraping against the dirt below – now standing side-on while he fully extended his right arm, pointing his blade forward. Carefully, Jaune's other forearm rested near the bottom of his right bicep, within the elbow.

There were reasons for this, of course, but Jaune didn't think he had the time to think of them as a pack of five Beowolves made themselves apparent – bursting through the shrubbery. And they wasted no time with pouncing on their prey.

Beowolves were, obviously, Grimm. But Vul – but more memorably: _experience_ – had taught him that they were far from `mindless`. The wolf-like Grimm had similar, if not – superior, instincts to their unmasked counterparts on account of their nature as physical manifestations of pure destruction. Sometimes, they would give their own lives to their base impulse to cause as much chaos as possible. He had seen it before and had no doubt he would see it again.

But not here, that was for sure. He wouldn't allow these monsters to leave here alive. Not after everything he had gone through.

The first, the weakest of the pack, was sent forth with a commanding snarl from the Beowolf near the back. Something of a guinea-pig to test the strength of the prey, Jaune learnt. It let out a deep roar as it ran forth in a line and leaped up in an even straighter line. Maw wide, saliva flew. And so did blood.

Thankfully, not his.

From a distance, it almost seemed as though the Grimm and cut itself on Jaune's blade that just so happened to be there. People who saw that might have called him lucky. To those people, Jaune would laugh hysterically and say he wished; he definitely deserved it after a year with, what seemed to be, Remnant's most unlucky man. Producers could have made a decent comedy on Vul's life. Probably sprinkle in elements of a tragedy there, too. For the ratings.

_Un-_luckily, though, fortune had nothing to do with it. Jaune just let the enemy do the work for him. To save energy was to save lives.

However, the cut was shallow. Drops of blood oozed from the edge of Crocea Mors' steel while the Beowolf tumbled onto the forest floor in a mess. Picking itself up, it weakly stalked off into the distance, leaving a trail of black-crimson in its stumble.

It wouldn't go far. Like a hunter to a deer, a huntsman was to a Grimm. It would bleed out and die in time and would most certainly perish if it saw another student attending Initiation. The brief second Jaune tore his eyes away from the pack to observe his attack proved to have been enough for the beasts to continue their assault.

To add against the argument of the so-called `mindlessness` of Grimm, two other Beowolves flanked either side of Jaune in a pincer-like formation. Jaune's right hand – still with Crocea Mors gripped – grasped his opposite shoulder and aimed his arm at one of the running beasts. Suddenly, a burst of smoke was almost visible as the sheathe was launched from the slot within the bracer.

A yelp told Jaune that his shot was true, the other half of Crocea Mors impaled straight through the side of one of the Beowolves. With the beast sent backward, the animalistic timing of the attack was sent on the rocks. To mess up the Grimm's rhythm even further, the teen stepped into the pounce of the opposite Beowolf – the blade of Crocea Mors singing as it tore through the underbelly of the coal-black creature and instantly lacerated it into ash in the wind. His left bracer suddenly glowed an ominous, poison purple.

Even the Beowolf embedded with the sheathe of the legendary blade let out a surprised yelp, being dragged towards the teen as the piece of steel within it shone with a similar light. It fit like the final piece of a puzzle, the sheathe slotting into the bracer with a Beowolf still on the end.

That was a lie, really. The final piece was _this._

The Grimm split in two as the sheath expanded, razor sharp edges of the flat surface tearing through flesh and leaving two sizeable chunks of wolf on the floor, where the grass once was green. Crocea Mors retracted, spinning on the bracer as the magnetic hold re-positioned it for standby again as Jaune whipped his arm to the side to get rid of the dusting blood.

It got the job done _and_ was cool as hell. That was a win-win in Jaune's books.

Three down, two to go.

Barking, the commanding Beowolf almost seemed to argue with the last member of what was once a pack. The two snarled, bearing teeth as they bickered – but ultimately, the beta lost. It gave a final bite to its leader, snapping ivory in the air as it turned to prowl forward to take Jaune's attention; the other backpedaling behind its sacrifice.

"Oh, no you don't…" The blond mumbled to himself, eyes hardened – squinting at the distance between him and the leader. "You aren't getting away that easy." Yeah, he could make the shot.

Jaune tossed his sword to his left hand, fingers wrapped around the royal blue as he lowered the now unburdened hand to his trouser belt. It was true, he had two devices that he could use whenever he so wished.

Well, he _had_ planned to use the grappling hook earlier – but that only _one_ of the two shifting weapons on his belts. The second was…

A single bullet fired from, quite literally, the hip – barrel now smoking as the small casing was ejected from the side, dropping on the floor with a dampened _ting_.

Nothing more than a dust-powered, semi-automatic, rapid-action handgun.

Really it had been a bet. But a bet well taken as the single shot staggered the leading Beowolf, as it slumped on the floor in a heap. The beta snapped its head to look at the alpha in what could only be described as shock.

Never take your eyes off of your opponent.

It didn't get the chance to learn from its mistake, and it never would – bright steel embedded both within its neck and through the ground. A pink tongue hung lolling from between the teeth, the sound of moving flesh evident as Crocea Mors was extracted from its target. Flaking black dust came off of the hide, proving its death. Sapphire eyes glared at the Beowolf he shot, gun in his right hand and a blade in his left.

Combat boots crushed grass, Jaune approaching the Beowolf steadily and noticed the very apt _lack_ of dust. Half a meter away from the `dead` Grimm, it suddenly burst to life, using all four legs to jump high – mouth unnaturally wide, its breath absolutely revolting; both blood and rotten flesh pointing at its experience in killing _something_. Jaune hoped it wasn't an unfortunate soul.

If it was, he would make sure it would never take another life again.

Jaune stared into the unnatural scarlet pearls of the Grimm as it hung limp on the edge of his blade in his left hand – pointed upwards sharply. Slowly, it slid down the metal, black fur tickling his hand as the body was propped on the top of his guard. It stirred slightly, despite the fatal wound. The teen's right hand rose slowly to rest on his opposite wrist – gun barrel aimed under the chin of the Beowolf.

The shot rang out, crimson peals dimming to maroon – fur turning to ash.

He left the corpse slide off the blade, letting it turn to ash as Jaune finally let his guard down. The teen breathed out a sigh of relief and doubled over, cradling his left wrist. Yep, it still hurt. It was a damn superhero landing! Give him _some_ slack. Propping up a fully grown Beowolf didn't help, that was for sure.

But he _had_ dispatched a pack of five Beowolves with ease. Sure, he had done it before many times in the past few months – but this was Beacon. This was supposed to be different. Jaune hoped with all his heart it would feel different. And to his relief.

It was different.

So Jaune smiled despite the pain. Enough to make himself feel good before getting jumped on behind by another Beowolf.

Crocea Mors and his gun scattered, palms unable to keep a solid grasp due to the combined surprise and earlier pains. He winced as his back hit the floor, right forearm placed in front of him; the sharp pang of pointed teeth getting through his Aura for a split second before he could redirect the flow back to where it was needed. Luckily, the monster bit down on a bracer – but bite down it did, denting the metal in the millisecond it was able to.

_"One mistake out on the battlefield could cost you-" _Alright! He got it, Vul, damn it!

This `mistake`, if it could even be called that, was strange, though. Where did this Beowolf even come from? A stray? These kinds of Grimm rarely were found alone, so that was highly unlikely. Black ooze that resembled blood pitter-pattered onto Jaune's leather breastplate – his gaze flickering to confirm what he saw. That wound… it was the weakest Beowolf from the very start!

The one he scored a shallow cut on and _assumed_ it would die. That probably also why Vul also said: _`No body? They're probably alive, then.` _and _`Body? Double-tap it.`_

Though, Jaune would admit it was poetic.

The weakest of the group proved to be the most troublesome in the end. If that wasn't the story of _somebody's_ life out there, Jaune didn't know what was.

Pumping raw strength into his bicep, the single limb could hold it back while the teen reached for the weapon barely in his grasp. Was it Crocea Mors or his sidearm? His gloved hand inched closer to the handle of whatever it was, right arm crackling with Aura.

His fingers barely grazed the hilt of the weapon as an obscene blur flashed above him, slicing the Grimm apart with speed and grace. Was he just… saved?

Jaune turned his head to look at his apparent savior, both hands now coming up to push off the limp corpse that was left on his chest. Blue eyes widened.

"It's…"

/-/

_Jaune!_

The poor body of her new friend was sent forward into the free air above, propelled by the springing platform he once stood on. And that every other potential is currently stood on.

Some stared at the teen, who was now doing uncontrollable flips in the air – his screams still very much audible and echoing across the vast open space – while others nervously glanced at their own feet, afraid to meet the same fate as the fabled: _boy who asked a pretty reasonable question,_ all things considered.

Well that boy was Ruby Rose's friend, gosh darn it, and he looked like he could use some help up there – doing all of those (probably) unintentional acrobatic feats in a less than graceful manner.

Professor Ozpin, who was largely unfazed by the whole thing, didn't even bat an eye, "Now… any other questions?"

_Yes! Can I please save my friend from landing face-first into the ground at a gajillion miles an hour? _But despite her innate speed, both physically and in her will to help, someone had raised their hand before hers.

She stood only a few bodies down the line from Ruby herself. Donned in intricately patterned bronze armour, she stood tall – way taller than she had the right to be – and even wore _heels._ Her hair was a deep shade of the most vibrant crimson, even more so than Ruby's own precious hood but what attracted the girl's attention the most was the fact that she somehow managed to beat youngest huntress-in-training to the punch.

"Me, sir," She stated eloquently with her hand politely raised, another still in front of her.

Ozpin paused for a fraction of a millisecond before regarding her with a small turn of his head. In his eyes was something that Ruby couldn't explain, but they seemed to glint. "Yes? What is it, Miss Nikos?"

"I want to go next. Please launch me, sir." Sure, Signal had its moments – but Ruby didn't think that those words would have ever been spoken outside of this very specific situation.

If Beacon's headmaster was at all surprised by the sentence, he most definitely didn't show it. Turning his head partly to next regard the blonde woman next to him with a raised eyebrow, she looked exasperated as her green eyes rolled. It was enough for the professor, however.

"Well," he spoke, "it wasn't a question but I shall look past it, Miss Nikos. Have a nice flight. Too-daloo." Not a single second later, the engraved square underneath her burst forward with a spring – similar to Jaune, but this girl had much more finesse in her form.

Ruby shook her red and black locks. This wasn't the time to admire somebody's ability to get some sick-nasty airtime; this was the time to save Jaune from _dying!_

"Let's try this again," the silver-haired man breathed out. "Is there… anybody _else_ with a question?"

Nobody was going to pull a fast one on her this time. "Me, sir! Me! Me!" Ruby shot her hand up, rose petals exploding forward with the action. It just happened sometimes, she came to learn, best not to question it.

"Ruby!" The voice of her sister, Yang, whispered fiercely from a few pads down. She might have gotten flack for it later but the younger one of the two decided to ignore it.

_Sorry, Yang, but I have to do this by myself. I can't be coddled by you forever!_

Whimsically, the headmaster raised an eyebrow, jaded hazel pupils shifting towards her – the only indication he was listening.

"Can I go next?" Ruby blinked. "Please?"

"I don't know, _can_ you?"

Ruby blinked again – this time harder. Much harder. Twice.

The woman behind Ozpin muttered something incomprehensible, but was no doubt something _very_ rude as she pinched the bridge of her nose so hard that it would made a Mistrali crocodile's death-grip look like child's play. Even some of the other students craned their heads toward the scene in utter disbelief.

The time that passed but a second, but to those around – it seemed like an eternity of silence until Ozpin spoke once more.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled. "It certainly has been a while since I've used that one." He moved his cane under the arm that held his mug, using the free hand to push his glasses up his nose. "In any case, your request is granted, Miss Rose. Ta-ta."

Now it was her turn to fly. And fly Ruby did, an eruption of red roses scattering from her body. This time, however, Ozpin turned to see the girl exceed her top speeds with the use of her Semblance, sipping from his mug as he did so.

With his back to the potential future generation of huntsman, the headmaster still continued, "Do we have any other questions, then?"

The sound of shifting cloth, clinking metal and nervous chatter was noticeable – Ozpin didn't even have to turn around to know that virtually everyone now had their hands up.

Giving a yet another knowing look to the smartly dressed woman beside him, she had recovered from her previous annoyed state only to let out another sigh before nodding slowly. The silver-haired headmaster gave a knowledgeable hum before bringing the white mug to his lips once more – each and every one of the pads behind him bursting forth in tandem with each other.

Someone in the airborne crowd was a desperate voice screaming, _`I wanted to ask if I could go to the bathroom!` _but surely he'd find a nice looking shrub to do his business in, Ozpin thought.

For all her exhaustion, Glynda Goodwitch turned to look off the side of the cliff, arms crossed against her chest – still holding the monitor against it. "An interesting cohort, wouldn't you say, Professor?"

Looking on the horizon, at the bright silhouettes of this generation's forces against evil, Ozpin couldn't help but agree.

/-/

Crescent Rose was useful in Ruby's own landing strategy. The high-caliber sniper rifle shots stalled her momentum enough to give her the chance to hook the edge around a large branch to swing down with relative ease.

Landing in a burst of petals, Ruby flooded her body with Aura once more to reactivate her Semblance. Where could Jaune have gone? The way he handled being launched in the air probably meant that he followed the trajectory without changing it much. That meant it should have been easy to guess where he landed.

_Should_ was the real keyword there, since Ruby had no idea where she was going! Everything looked the same! Green and brown blurred past her vision as the girl's head snapped to the left and right to get any sort of grip on her surroundings.

Hold on, didn't she just pass that exact tree? The pattern of the wood looked exactly the same as the one five seconds ago! Gah! This was all just so frustrating! Where was he?

Ruby didn't even know why she was so fixated on finding Jaune. No, wait, she did – it was to save him of course! What if he got hit really hard on the head when he fell or a particularly spiky branch unknowingly impaled him? Those leather pads on his body didn't really look like they protected him from much.

Well, Ruby _did_ wear a combat skirt but that was besides the point; it was totally cool and awesome.

It's not like she wanted him as a partner. No, not at all!

Sure, he was super nice and helped her out when she was in trouble at the very start of her time at Beacon and he also had really nice blond hair that she _might_ have wanted to ruffle a little bit and had those hard but kind deep-blue eyes that she could get lost in… he didn't even talk to her solely because of her sister! He talked to her because he liked _her _for being herself.

The heels of her combat boots dug into the forest dirt as she ground to a halt. Scarlet petals flew forward while her black skirt fluttered backwards. Both of Ruby's hands were against her cheeks – dots of pink appearing; her mouth trembling while wide open.

Did that mean…

There could be no way…

…

Did Jaune _like _her?

Like – like, _liked_ her? It's not like people haven't like-liked her before but, like, this was different! There was no way, right? No way! He was just a friend that she met yesterday that seemed to really understand her as a person and wouldn't mind spending the next four years of her time at Beacon with.

Just friends.

A loud gunshot brought Ruby back into the real world. Was somebody in trouble? But she had to save Jaune! But what if it _was_ Jaune?

The ringing echoed across the trees, continuing long past Ruby herself. From the sound, it seemed to be a relatively standard semi-automatic sidearm of sorts – most likely pistol. It came from her left so, with the use of her Semblance, left was the direction she went.

Just because she wouldn't mind Jaune being her partner didn't mean it wasn't the same for others, too. Getting Blake as a partner didn't seem so bad; she could probably tell Ruby about more of her books. Maybe next time she wouldn't have an emotional outburst at hearing the synopsis…

Weiss, also known as the one and only `Shouty-girl`, might have worked too. Ruby definitely felt like they had reformed the bridges that were burnt at their first interaction. Or… you know, maybe the bridges weren't really there in the first place and it was more like she jumped the gap?

Ah! Water under the bridge. That was the bridge-related saying she was going for.

If she found Yang, it's not like Ruby wouldn't partner with her. Of course she would; she was her sister and loved her so much!

It was just that these past two days, she's been really overprotective – triple the amount she was back at Signal. While Ruby didn't know _why_ specifically, the young huntress-in-training hoped that it was just a phase she was going through.

A growling beast took her attention as the girl sped through the forests.

Beowolf – no doubt about it. It was only a singular one but there was a very obvious sign of a struggle and if the wrecked scenery was anything to go by, a large battle preceded it. Surely, they could handle it themselves, right? It was just _one_ Grimm, after all… she _could_ just dash by and find Jaune.

Who was she kidding? She could never do that – never in her life, not to anyone. And, hey, maybe it would be Jaune? That would sure be awesome.

Crescent Rose revealed his true form, shifting into the scythe she spent so much time learning how to use, thanks to her Uncle Qrow. The bullet of a girl was a couple dozen metres from the pounced Grimm, currently on top of a fellow potential student and attempting to dig into its latest meal.

Ruby definitely wouldn't let that happen. A couple dozen meters was a distance she could cross in less than a second.

Her weapon sliced through the Beowolf with mechanical ease – like a hot knife through butter, except the hot knife was a six-foot curved blade made of reinforced stainless steel and the butter was the tough, pitch-black hide of a Grimm.

Shifting her weight accordingly, Ruby span as she let the mass of her weapon carry her strike – landing on her two feet and bringing both her arms behind her and locking the handle under her elbows. The girl's boots dug into the dirt underneath her, putting more pressure onto one of her black-laced boots so her velocity stalled as she rotated to face the person she so _amazingly _saved.

Ruby kept her head down, hoping that she looked cool, waiting for Jaune to say something.

"It's… you!" Wait a second… that wasn't Jaune's voice. It was high-pitched, kind of annoyingly so, and feminine with a regal tone behind it. It was-

Ruby shot her head up, "Weiss?"

Weiss was already free of the Grimm's weight, Ruby's slice completely obliterated the Beowolf and sent it straight back to the shadows as nothing more than ash. The more elegant teen pushed herself upwards and was brushing off her snow-white dress and

The weapon in her hands shifted back into its holstering mode, as Ruby slowly tip-toed towards her white-haired… friend? Acquaintance? Recently acquired savior-ee?

Friend worked.

"Weeeiiiiiiss…" Ruby was slowly making her way in front of her friend, who had now gotten rid of most of the dust on her outfit and was now crossing her arms looking away from the other girl.

The red-cloaked girl was now behind the heiress, taking a quick step forward to be in front of her instead with a bright smile.

To which, the other responded by puffing her chin out in a direction that avoided facing her. Ruby's own face was now decorated with a look of surprise.

"Weiss?" Ruby took another fast step in front of the heiress only to receive the same treatment yet again. Another cute pout in a direction that didn't include Ruby.

What was she doing? Was she _trying _to avoid her?

If life with Yang taught her anything, sometimes persistence was the key to getting what you wanted. Like when she would try to reach the `only let Ruby take one per day` cookie-jar that she and their dad kept on the top shelf but this was far from that.

Because this time it would work this time.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby closed her eyes and prepared herself. "Weiss." Nope. "Weiss!" Nuh-uh. "Weiiiss!" She was too slow! Aura flooded Ruby's body to use her Semblance. "Weiss!" Not yet. "Uh-Weiss!" She had to turn it up even further. "Weiss, Weiss, Weiss!"

Truly, Weiss' head movement was something to admire – but she had to be wearing down, Ruby could see it!

She had to go even further beyond. "Weiss, Weiss, Weiss, Weiss, Weeeeeiiiis!" And just like that, the cold-hearted girl broke.

With a drop of her arms from her chest, Weiss stomped her heel on the ground as she yelled, "Grrr, what do you want, you insufferable little-"

"We're partners now!" Ruby shouted with equal volume, but much more jovial enthusiasm.

Weiss blinked, only now realizing that they had truly made eye contact. With sky-blue meeting shining-silver the connection had been made. She opened her mouth to say something – _anything_ but the words never came out.

Because the bridge had been formed; the bond had been made. Fates were sealed as their souls were intertwined.

Ruby picked up the beat that Weiss had missed, "Come on, partner! Let's get to finding these relics!"

As Ruby began to drag her by the arm and deeper into the forest, heading to who knows where, Weiss spluttered, "W-wait a second! Unhand me, you- you- you-"

"La, la, la, I can't hear you over the sound of friendship!"

Weiss shook her head, eyebrows mismatched in height. "Friendship? What on Remnant are you talking about?"

_"Friendship…_" The other girl sighed dreamily.

"Do you even know where we're going? Let me go!" To respond, Ruby only had silence. Something that Weiss probably didn't expect seeing as though she responded to the younger girl's silence with more of it.

Eventually, Ruby's voice found itself once more, lowered in volume than before. "You know, for all the complaining you're doing, you aren't exactly _trying _too hard to get away from me – are you?"

Pink found its way to Weiss' pale cheeks, "S-shut up!"

Gasping, Ruby let go of the heiress' arm and pivoted to see her face. Weiss recoiled, but didn't do much else other than that. "You _totally_ want to be partners!" She squealed.

Crossing her arms once more, Weiss refused to meet the starry silver eyes of her partner, "It's not that I _want_ to be your partner – don't flatter yourself like that, it's unhealthy." She closed her eyes and articulated with a hand, "I just simply believe you are one of the more preferable options compared to the others."

Suddenly, she took lead and began to stride further in the direction Ruby was heading. "Now are we going to find these relics or not?"

Ruby turned around again, giggling as she jogged up behind Weiss. Sure, Weiss wasn't Jaune but the two seemed to get along fine now!

Hopefully, they would still end up on a team together.

"That's just a fancy way of saying you want to be partners with me – oof!" Weiss had stopped in her tracks and Ruby had just lightly crashed into her back. "What gives?" Rubbing at her head, she rose her gaze, shutting one eye to deal with the pain.

Weiss was looking up at it with appropriately placed silence.

It was a large cave entrance, the edges of the rocky entrance painted with patterns of white that resembled _something_. Ruby thought it looked like a bunch of stick-figure dancing around a piñata or something. Maybe the relic was hidden in the piñata?

"So… you wanna check it out?"

Weiss sighed.

* * *

**Ending notes:**

**Wow. That's just the feeling I get after writing every chapter of a story. Even if the chapter itself was possibly lackluster at first draft. Hopefully, this one _isn't_.**

**Did I spend around 2k words explaining how Jaune killed 5 Beowolves? Yes. Was it sort of overkill and maybe drawn out? I have no idea.**

**If you want reference on Jaune's stance – just look up the Abyss Watchers' stance from Dark Souls 3 but the left arm is lower down and right arm is bent inwards slightly more. ****I wanted to get into detail on how Jaune fights. I thought it was pretty cool. Maybe you can figure out how he did some of his tricks. Don't worry, what he's shown wasn't even a fraction of what he can do. With one year to train, playing tricky is playing to win.**

**Also, Weiss and Ruby are partners! That whole interaction had my brain wracking and how they would interact – which is weird considering how they're so commonly written together. ****Did I get you with the fake out? Guess who Jaune will be partnered with next time on Under the Wing of a Black Bird.**

**My inbox and reviews are open to criticism and as always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6: Time to Team Up

**Author's Notes:**

**Another week, another chapter. **

**As of posting this, I've only just finished the plan for Chapter 8 so it'll be a little longer before the next update; I want to be at least 2 chapters ahead of the curve before posting the next. If you're constantly tuning in to this story, I hope you'll understand. We're almost at the end of Initiation, though! This chapter and the next should be all she wrote.**

**Deeper into Initiation we dive.**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"It's you..."

Jaune's voice was quiet, slightly shaky, even. Pushing off the flaking remains of what was once a fully grown Beowolf on his chest – now cleanly sliced in two.

Her raven hair flowed from her speed, landing in an almost unsettlingly silent crouch, bending a single knee with one palm resting on the floor and the other outstretched – holding out her weapon after following through with an obvious strike.

If Jaune's landing from earlier was a superhero landing, this figure's was a _ninja_ landing.

Speaking of figure, this one was definitely female. White zip-up shorts made way for black tights that blended into purple near the shins and similarly-coloured boots that folded down at the top. A parted black waistcoat – buttoned with a single white button – exposed the lower part of her midsection and her ribboned forearms seemed to follow the flutter of the strand of cloth wrapped around her weapon.

And those piercing golden orbs and midnight bow atop her head.

Rising, none other than Blake Belladonna stared directly into Jaune's eyes. And with amber meeting sapphire, the bond was created – the bridge was built. Fates were sealed.

Souls were intertwined.

/-/

Somewhere atop the side of a cliff, Ozpin took a very loud sip of his mug.

Normally, Glynda wouldn't give it a second glance, she was too busy monitoring all of the students' whereabouts and informing Peter and Bart about potential altercations that may be arising.

The `altercations` ranged from menial – such as a student giving up Initiation (which she understood wholeheartedly; the world of huntsmen and Grimm weren't for everyone) – and the more severe. Such as the deliberate sabotage between students or a student being in mortal danger.

However, her old teammate was taking a precariously long swig of the contents within his precious mug. One second turned into five which turned to ten – making Glynda question how it even fit that much substance inside of it.

Eventually, she grew slightly concerned for her employer. If something happened to him, that just meant there would be even _more_ paperwork on her desk.

With a sigh, Glynda turned to Ozpin, "What's wrong, Professor?" It took maybe another second or two before the silver-haired headmaster's lips left the rim of the white mug.

He let out a breath, inclining more towards a groan than a sigh, and muttered under his breath with his eyes shut, "I spent all of last night thinking of those team names… it even matched her actual– " Ozpin let out another wishful sigh. "Glynda?"

Standing at full attention, she responded, "Yes, Headmaster?"

"How do you feel about the name `Jazzberry`?" Her face twisted in visible disgust at the very concept of such a name. "No? I felt the same way; let us hope it doesn't come to it, then. What about `Rubine`? `Whirlpool`?"

And so, the esteemed headmaster of Beacon Academy began to rattle off brainstormed ideas to his vice principal, all the while she still dutifully monitored her students and deeply breathing in and out in an almost primal-like manner.

"Perhaps even `Ribbon`? Has a certain _charm_ to it, wouldn't you say?"

/-/

"It's you..."

Despite his low volume, Jaune was heard. And while Blake began to walk towards the collapsed bot, she spoke, "Yes, it is. And it seems as though we are now partners, partner." Now next to Jaune, she offered her free hand, the other holding her overly complicated-looking weapon.

The blond reached out a hand, twitching backwards for half a second, before he grasped it and pulled.

Being dragged to his feet, Jaune thought that he might as well have made the best of his situation. He'd count his small blessings where he could, hoping they wouldn't burst aflame first, of course.

"Welp," he groaned as he was dragged upwards, "I guess it could be a lot worse." Jaune gave a slightly coy smile, "You could have been Yang."

To his surprise, Blake chuckled softly, letting go of his hand as she put that hand to her back – sheathing her weapon on her back in a singular motion. "Believe me," she said, "I completely get the sentiment."

At least someone else understood how terrifying she was, even if it was the girl opposite him. "You, too, huh?" Her only response was a nonchalant shrug with a small smile of her own gracing her features.

Jaune hummed, more so to prevent him saying something he would regret later, patting down his vast amount of equipment on his person – making sure he didn't lose anything. It wasn't that he was careless with how he strapped everything in – a little roughing up wouldn't undo his belts - more so just out of habit after things just _disappearing_ from his arsenal out of nowhere while travelling with his mentor.

Crocea Mors' blade still lay flat on the ground near his feet from when he let go in surprise, thanks to the Beowolf. He'd have to work on keeping a hold of his weapon when it mattered, too. It was human nature to sporadically move muscles in a panic, but losing your weapon when you needed most could spell death.

His assortment of gear shuffled as Jaune bent onto a knee to examine the sword. As always, in perfect condition. Wrapping fingers against the royal-blue hilt as he slid it into the sheathe on the outside of his forearm and, with a satisfying click, he stood back up and looked for his pistol…

Oh no.

Jaune's eyes widened.

Blake, like himself just a few seconds earlier, was bent down over a familiar-looking item. It was nothing other than Jaune's very own customized handgun. She slowly ran a hand down the barrel to feel the surface of the black metal before picking it up by the handle and turning to meet its owner.

At the sight of his expression, her own amber orbs widened, switching her grip from on the handle to the barrel with a seemingly practiced flick of the wrist. Perhaps because her own weapon was possibly a gun and she was likely well-versed with it.

Surely.

"Sorry," Blake apologized, not quite meeting his wary gaze, "I forgot that you didn't like people touching your stuff." She pushed the handle of the gun closer to Jaune, taking a single step closer.

Jaune took a half-step back, cursing as he realized what he was doing. Instead of following through, he took a full step forward, and slowly retrieved the weapon in Blake's hands. She was only half right in her assumption, after all.

A black similar in darkness to Blake's own outfit, the metal on his gun was obviously worn and rusted in some areas, but the key feature of the gun itself was the faded double yellow arc that was painted around the barrel. Just something that he thought to add when he got it custom made. Some personality never hurt anyone.

Unless it came in the form of a tacky, tattered cape that you commonly got yourself tangled into. That definitely hurt people.

A lot of people.

"No, don't worry about it; it's fine," Jaune responded, the weapon shifting into a smaller version as he hung it onto his thigh-belt. His eyes met Blake's once more. "Thanks."

Blake nodded silently, but moved past Jaune and pointed into the foliage behind him. The boy turned to look in the same direction.

"While I was in the air, there was a large clearing in the forest," she started, "Another cliff-side and a large castle ruin. If we head in that direction, I'm sure that we'll come across the relics that Professor Ozpin spoke about."

Jaune stared into what he could only describe as a deep mass of green and nothing more. His sense of direction never really was the best in the first place and `travelling` in the past year was more akin to wandering around aimlessly until they stumbled across something that was useful and then _claim_ it was intentional.

"I see." He didn't see anything other than loads of trees. "Well, lead the way, Blake." Jaune gestured generally in the pointed direction, to which Blake nodded her head and did so without much more prompt.

/-/

The journey was mostly in silence, at least verbally.

Audible crunches of forest litter and the occasional sound of Grimm stalking the woods filled the void between them while a professional air of mutual understanding came between the two to deal with the problems that arose.

Grimm were easily enough dispatched between the two. Ursa, Boarbatusks, Beowolves – no Majors, Empors or Alphas at all – were either cut through cleanly with a well-timed slice of Crocea Mors or a slash of Blake's gun-whip sword thing that Jaune still thought still had way too many components to be practically useful.

He couldn't complain, however. As long as it cut the horrific creatures of Grimm down to shreds with enough ease – it was good in his eyes. And Blake definitely knew how to make her weapon tear them to tatters.

With scary amounts of natural agility, Blake flipped and jumped, dislocating her pistol from the blade and using it as a… a… _ballistic chain whip-scythe _that went through Beowolf and Ursa alike in deadly and elegant patterns. While Jaune used his innate strength and trained dexterity to finish Grimm with drilled-in technique, his new partner's speed and movement almost made _him_ dizzy – and he wasn't even the one spinning around. It was enough to make him jealous, at the very least.

Stupid flashy weapons.

Diving under an Ursa's wide swing, Jaune got extremely close and personal with the large Grimm while it stood on its hind legs. Crocea Mors sang as it slashed through the exposed neck of the creature in a backhanded strike. Ripping the head clean off, Jaune knew that the rest of the Grimm were being handled by Blake and took the time to stare at the Arc legacy's pride and joy – a weapon passed from generation to generation. One that he stole from his father on the night he ran away.

Flashy weapon, huh?

_If only I could make it happen again…_

"Blake?"

"Yeah?" Blake stood atop the corpse of another Ursa, her pistol-whip being jerked free from the hindquarters of the beast with a tug of the connecting ribbon.

"How close are we to the ruins you were talking about?" At his completely reasonable question, Blake gave him an incredulous look with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

A single finger pointed to Jaune's side, revealing a part of the forest where the tree line abruptly ended.

"Oh." Ruined - fragments of stone became pedestals for differently-coloured objects that, because of the distance, weren't easily decipherable by the eye. Squinting, Jaune tried anyway, "Can you tell what those are?"

With an air of easy indifference, Blake responded, "They're chess pieces. And they're probably the relics." As she hopped off of the decaying Ursa, she began to walk towards the ruins that were easily over a hundred meters away from them.

Jaune followed swiftly behind, tightly grasping Crocea Mors in his right hand. His earring jingled at his movement, the sound filling his ears. And as he walked, his eyes were like cold and narrow, pointed directly at the back of the girl's skull.

Blake could certainly see quite far, couldn't she?

/-/

Ember Cecelia rammed into the open stomach of yet another poor, unexpecting Ursa. If the force of her raw strength alone wasn't enough to send it packing, the subsequent shotgun shell exploding from the barrel of it certainly would.

"Rrraagh!" Yang yelled, sending the Grimm launching back into a faraway tree with a burst from her gauntlets. The sickening sound of mushy flesh told the blonde brawler that the beast definitely bit the dust with that one.

Her dad always taught her that using her voice was a good way to strengthen her strikes. Something to do with air or breath or something…?

She forgets.

"Take that!" Yang fist-pumped the air, "I swear, I couldn't _bear_ you for another second!" She said with the utmost charisma, now placing both hands on her hips and giving a cocky smile.

It was aimed to nobody in particular, but that didn't stop Yang from improving her stand-up improv; she had a reputation to uphold, you know? Yang – Queen of Puns, Empress of Entertainment, Warrior of Wordplay.

Some people just didn't appreciate art, was all.

Her joyful expression turned downcast, then a small scowl as she clicked her teeth. Where did Ruby go? Without a doubt, to find Jaune, but Yang would rephrase the question.

_Why_ did Ruby go? Maybe she laid it on too thickly for the first day? Maybe she had enough of her older sister's motherly protection.

Yang sighed, opening one of her right palm and looking into it. "Ruby's a big girl now, Yang," she advised herself quietly, "you shouldn't coddle her too much. What if _your_ mom always stood over you, watching your every move?"

Her eyes widened, lilac pupils moving around her hand before they steadied themselves once more. "Stop being an idiot, Yang, let her make her own friends." Expect Jaune. The blonde closed her hand into a fist tightly.

Not Jaune.

Rising her head to look forward at the tree she punched a Grimm into, Yang reflected on _why_ exactly she didn't like Jaune. Really, it was probably a mixture of confusion and envy – both feelings were mild and petty, she knew, but it didn't stop her from feeling them.

She was just teasing her sister, as she normally did, only for Ruby to run off and come back with a blond-haired, blue-eyed _male_ teen. That in itself wasn't much of a problem, if the dude was decent enough she'd be all for Ruby making some good guy-friends.

However, Jaune didn't seem decent.

It wasn't even that she caught him staring at her. Better guys have tried back in Signal and each one of them got beaten to a pulp. And while she would definitely like to give Jaune a solid sock to the jaw, she just couldn't bring himself to. Because Ruby liked him. And it seemed as though Jaune did genuinely care some for Ruby.

Yang told herself it was something in his eyes. His demeanour was normal enough, like any other hormonal teenage male – but eminently different, in a way. His eyes, those distant blue eyes, they hid something that screamed danger. Her instincts told her to be careful, to be… _afraid. _And while she wasn't afraid - far from it, really - Yang didn't want her sister to be caught up in something bigger than she was.

She even mentally blocked out the obvious joke there. Maybe these were her overbearing _motherly_ instincts acting up again. They haven't been this bad since Summer first left. Yang knew that. Maybe they were taking over her actions once more, all these years later amidst the crowds of oestrogen in her bloodstream, to an extent.

To what extent Yang didn't truly know. However, as long as Jaune respected Ruby and her wishes, she would attempt to tolerate his presence. _Attempt_ being a keyword. Because if that sucker got a little _too_ close to Ruby in the wrong way…

Yang slammed her closed fist into her other hand, creating a satisfying _thud_ against the glove.

Death would be the least of his worries.

The sound of another growl belonging to yet another Ursa came from behind Yang. Her resolved expression formed into a vicious grin as she spun around, Ember Cecelia cocked backwards, letting empty shells fly free from their cage as the brawler brought her figure down into a recognisable stance.

"Guess you Ur-_saw_ what happened to your buddy back there and you want some too, huh?" Yang smirked. Man, she was on a roll.

It roared, coming in on all fours and ran towards Yang – unknowing that its demise was fast approaching in the form of rocket-powered…

Javelin?

Not even a second after the Grimm had committed to its furious charge, a spear from the heavens – coloured in scarlet and gold – made Yang jump back in surprise as the spiked tip pierced the Grimm's skull.

It was like a damn shooting star! "Wh- what the hell was that?" She managed, whispering in awe to herself, "Where did it even come from?"

The next sound to grace Yang's ears was a small cough, breaking through her initial shock. "Um. Hello, there!" The voice was feminine, graceful – yet strong – and with a slightly shaky undertone despite the jovial pitch.

Spinning on her boot heel, the brawler couldn't help but feel like she had been combat-blue-balled as she saw a figure emerge from the shrubbery. It was a girl with hair that reminded her of Ruby's cloak and was clad in beautifully patterned bronze plating – fashionable and practical, Yang noted. Her hands became interlinked in front of her and she smiled, though her eyes didn't do the same.

Yang knew as she had saw them. Her eyes. Wait-

Lilac met emerald, brawler met champion and huntress met huntress. The bond was established; the bridges were built. Fates were sealed – and souls?

Intertwined.

The blonde brought a single hand to the top of her head a scratched it lightly, trying to shake off the slight irritation. It wasn't personal or anything, this girl just wasn't Ruby or Blake. Though, she supposed it could have been worse.

It could have been Jaune walking through the bushes.

Though she decided to make the best of the situation, and since this girl looked slightly apprehensive to approach – what better way to break the ice than with a pickaxe made of puns? A pun-axe.

With a wide smile, Yang jerked a thumb the red javelin, embedded deeply into the dirt – the body of the earlier Grimm already faded to dust, "Hey, is that yours?" She asked, "Well, you're in luck, it just so happened to _drop in_ a few seconds ago! Eh? Eh?" Her eyebrows wiggled furiously.

The quite-literal redhead looked surprised before her eyes lit up with a green glint, moving a hand to stop a giggle from escaping.

At least _someone_ appreciated art around here.

"Yes," she spoke, walking forwards toward her new partner. "that does appear to be mine. Thank you for taking care of it. My name is Pyrrha, and you?" She offered a leather-gloved hand politely, to which Yang took with swiftness – taking the other slightly aback at her forwardness.

It was a good way to make friends, she had learnt.

"Pyrrha? That's a cool name. The name's Yang Xiao-Long, nice to meet you, partner!"

"Likewise," she smiled. And Yang liked to think she meant it that time.

Pyrrha began to trek with more of a stride in her step than when she first appeared from the surrounding greenery towards what Yang thought was her weapon. She was proven correct as the taller girl reached for the middle and pulled it forth, displacing some grass with the action. With a motion, it span around her wrist as it holstered onto her back where a similarly-coloured shield lay resting too.

She linked her hands politely once again and turned to address her blonde partner, "So, Yang-" Pyrrha stopped her trail of thought. "What's wrong?" Her voice took on an inquisitive edge as the other girl was staring into the parting canopy above them.

"You, uh, didn't happen to drop anything _else_ on your way here, did you?" Yang asked.

Pyrrha shook her head confusedly, "No, I didn't… Yang, are you alright?"

"Maybe for now," she noted ominously, a nervous smile breaking on her face as one of her fingers slowly extended towards the sky. Pyrrha followed the line of sight created, her own emerald orbs widening as adrenaline rushed through her blood. "But I don't think that's gonna last."

What was in the sky was a massive Nevermore. For some, that would be enough to make them wet their pants but that wasn't what had the two girls shaken. It was because the Nevermore was currently nosediving on a collision course directed on the ground that they just so happened to stand on.

And it looked pissed.

Its large beak was wide open, letting out a bloodcurdling screech, that had Yang drawing in a deep breath.

"Run!" She howled, already bursting past Pyrrha with a simultaneous explosion erupting from Ember Cecilia. Pyrrha gave the giant Grimm a lingering look before doing as yelled to, turning tail and hiking it the same direction as her partner.

Yang's light-brown leather boots landed on the floor for a millisecond, the surface area of the two objects barely grazing each other, before she let off another explosion. Her head snapped behind in the air time to check on Pyrrha, only to find the red-haired teen nowhere to be found. "Pyrrha?! Where are you?!"

"Right here!" Pyrrha responded, running right beside Yang.

Who was currently manoeuvring via rocket-powered explosions.

She had to shift her lilac eyes between the two positions, behind and next to her, until she ultimately donned a huge grin on her face. This girl was pretty good!

"Keep up the pace!" Yang yelled, her gauntlets roaring in response to her command – even if it wasn't specifically for them, "or people might _never_ see _more_ of my beautiful face!" It wasn't her best material, she would admit.

The ear-splitting screech enclosing behind them seemed to agree.

"Do you always go for the low-hanging fruit?" Asked Pyrrha, having no trouble keeping up with Yang with her pure horsepower alone, jumping over and ducking under thorny bushes and spiked branches alike.

Another burst of her gauntlets. "What can I say? I'm just _winging_ it at this point." Replied the blond, her grin not leaving her face.

That would soon change, however, as the avian Grimm above them blacked out the sky – the sun's light dimmed with the black feathers of the night.

/-/

"Huh… you good with this one?" Jaune's index and thumb were at the opposite ends of a horse-figured chess piece – a knight.

It was ironic, really. He spent so much time thinking he would eventually become one, coming to Beacon as anything but.

He flipped around to Blake, showing her the golden piece, rotating it around for her to inspect. Her response was an indifferent shrug, with no malice behind it, just to indicate that she didn't really mind what they got, as long as they didn't outright fail.

Jaune flicked the chess piece upward, catching it with a swipe of the palm and secured it into one of the endless pouches on his belts.

"So," he asked, "what now?"

Blake folded her arms and put weight onto one of her legs, making the other bend. "Well, I imagine that we wait for Professor Ozpin to call off Initiation. You have a scroll on you, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Why?" A scroll was essentially a must-have device in this day and age with the CCT's plotted in each of the four kingdoms. Messages, phone calls, worldwide news, cute cats – you name it and its probably lurking somewhere around the C-Net.

Blake gestured one of her hands forward, "Maybe the headmaster will contact us with it."

It left the question on how he would know they completed it, only for Jaune to internally facepalm at his own enquiry. The headmaster of Beacon Academy would, of course, have some sort of surveillance system in his Grimm-infested backyard and use that to keep tabs on Initiation. It made logical sense.

Jaune nodded in agreement, "Let's hope it's soon, then."

The raven-haired teen hummed in agreement.

…

As silence came over the two, Blake slowly made her way to a solitary pillar, snapped at the top half with what seemed to be its fragments of stone scattered around it neatly. It was close enough to the main ruin housing the relics that Jaune could keep an eye on Blake from where he was stood but chose to follow.

The girl leant against the pillar and put the sole of one of her boots on it as she shut her eyes, crossing her arms once more. Taking his own post, Jaune took a seat on one of the many boulders around the singular obelisk and propped himself up with both his arms behind his back.

Leaning back, he looked at the very clear sky above; the ruins themselves were quite some ways away from the main thick of the forest.

…

Man, this silence was awkward.

At least when the two were making the trek towards where Blake correctly guessed where the relics were, the deafening silence between them was filled with the sweet sound of stripping Grimm flesh and shouting warnings and call-outs.

Now, all there was between the two was the spine-chilling lack of words that Jaune felt would even make that elusive headmaster feel like _coughing_ was a bad idea.

Hell, even now Jaune was eyes were as wide as plates and his cheeks were compact as he stared into the clouds – wondering what on Remnant they could talk about.

Granted, he hadn't really had the best first impression on her, what with the whole suddenly yelling at her for no apparent reason but damn it, that was a mistake in the moment. Jaune knew that he had to make effort in repairing this relationship.

Especially because they'd be spending the next four years together as partners.

"Hey, uh…"

"Yes?" Blake opened a single eye, her pupil moving to the side to meet Jaune's gaze.

He would be the first to admit that single action was mildly intimidating and definitely _not_ helping him mend the apparent problems between them.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Another second of silence. Blake opened her other eye, not yet facing Jaune's direction, but it was enough movement to tell him that she was giving him full attention. "For what?"

And Blake definitely wasn't the forgetful type. Nor was she seem stupid. She knew exactly what he was apologising for but just wanted the teen to elaborate on it further.

Jaune would do his best not to, "For my outburst back before Initiation. I know it was unexpected and you didn't deserve that kind of treatment; for that - I'm sorry." He didn't always stumble on his words. More often than not, he was normally quite well-spoken. You had to be when you were normally communicating on behalf of a swear-slurring radical drunk half of the time.

He also learnt that the ability to speak was one of humanity's greatest assets. Funnily enough, not against the Grimm – but against themselves. Jaune still didn't understand why the people of Remnant still sought to destroy each other instead of the obvious option. You know, _working together to solve the problems of the world? _Instead, organizations like the White Fang twist and contort to conform to the brutality around them.

Oh, and it did also help slightly that he could sense Aura to an extent – partly giving him the ability to sense the true feelings of individuals. Yeah, that helped.

"Why?" Was Blake's reply. She didn't verbally accept the apology – not yet, at least.

Jaune fiddled with his left earlobe, freeing the crooked cross ornament from his flesh. Holding it the palm of his right hand, the teen made a display of moving it around in his glove.

"I remember telling you it was from someone important to me." Not entirely false. Vul was important to him, but not in _that_ kind of way. Guy was still a douche. But the next part was entirely true to Jaune, "Without him, I wouldn't be the person I am today."

The girl tore her eyes from Jaune, looking over the castle surrounded by a gorge in the distance. "They must mean a lot to you." Something in Blake's voice made him reminisce the year he was essentially kidnapped to spend with the man he called his mentor. It was distant, as if remembering a past memory. Though, even with his partial Aura sense, he couldn't tell if it was fond or not.

"They do," he replied.

And Jaune found much more truth in that statement than what he initially thought.

"I see," Blake closed her eyes once more, returning to her original position. "Then I'll take your word for it. Apology accepted."

For the first time with this girl, Jaune felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Hopefully, it would last. He gave himself a pat on the back and felt the creeping shake in his legs escape along with the rising sense of Blake's suspicion in her Aura.

Even if he knew what to say, it didn't make it any easier to say them – especially when who you were speaking to definitely knew something was up. Doubly especially if that something could spell disaster for many people, including himself.

Fastening his earring back on, the steel went through his flesh in a pre-pierced pinhole – though he would never get used to the feeling of putting something through his skin _voluntarily. _With it securely back in place, Jaune felt more at ease with his position and let his muscles relax.

If only life would treat him that easily.

Blake shot up from her position, leaning forward as her eyes flickered to the distant treeline.

Jaune made to stand up, lowering himself as he slowly made his way towards the fully alert girl, "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know… but it sounds like heavy footsteps, around three pairs," replied Blake, her eyes focusing on a specific part of the forest they came out of. "Coming from over there."

Three pairs of passive footsteps? If anything, Jaune did trust Blake's sense at the very least. "You think it's a Grimm?"

"Do you have to ask?" Her tone of voice was flat and spared her partner a single glance.

Jaune shrugged, some of his equipment shuffling with the action, "I don't know," the teen answered, "maybe it's a pack of exceptionally large people."

"At that point, I'm unsure whether or not that would be better or worse," the girl joked. And Jaune found himself laughing softly while she wore a small smile.

Blake's head twitched upwards but a blur of red kept Jaune's attention at the forest edge. And it was getting closer at an alarming rate. That couldn't have been. No… no, it couldn't have.

But the rose petals were a dead giveaway.

"Jaaauuuunneee!" Ruby's voice was panicked and in a frequency that Jaune thought that the Beowolves would shy at the sound of.

"Ruby?!" He yelled back? The blond took a step back, afraid that the Ruby Express was on a one-track course straight _though_ Jaune Station. Lucky for him, that wasn't the case and he was spared a flowery demise as the speeding haze of roses burst past him yelling only one thing, "Ruuuuuun!"

"Eiieeeee!" A second voice shrieked at an even _higher_ pitch. How the hell was that even humanly possible? But in the fraction of a second that he had to set his eyes on Ruby, he could have sworn that she was _carrying_ Weiss along with her.

Jaune's gloved hand darted to his thigh-belt once more, quickly grasping at the second device that he had on hand. It's whirling revealed it to be not much larger than a pistol, but with somewhat similar properties.

What made it different however, was the large metal hook attached to the end of the barrel and a circular reel near the backend of it.

Once again, it was a customized piece. Black paintjob, some of it coming off in flakes to reveal a greyer material underneath, with a double yellow arc around the barrel.

A grappling gun. Or grappling hook or hook-shot, take your pick, really. Vul did once suggest calling it a snatch-and-grabber but he was completely off his rocker at the time, so Jaune didn't take it seriously. Not like he would have if he was sober, anyway; that was a horrible name.

And as Jaune lined up the shot, which was thankfully quite easy since Ruby was moving a completely straight line, he took a deep breath and fired the trigger – aiming right at her big, puffy cloak.

His shot was true, the hook handing directly within the hood itself. Trust Lady Luck to be on his side _some_ times.

"Oop-" Ruby noticed that her momentum all but grinded to a halt and the crippling realisation what was going to happen dawned on her. Jaune let go of the trigger he was holding down, prompting the cast line to come shooting backwards, dragging the cloaked girl with it. "Aaaaahhhh! Oof!"

"Owch!" Weiss tumbled across the floor, rolling around in the grass as Ruby let go of her during the entire sequence. "Watch it, you dunce!"

The red-cloaked girl rubbed her head, knees spread apart on the ground before she came to, "Sorry, Weiss…" she shook her head violently, as if to get herself back on track. Putting both of her palms flat on the grass below she started to ramble, "Jaune! We gotta get moving! Me and Weiss-"

Weiss was already on her feet, dusting of her dress, "-Weiss and I," she muttered angrily.

"-were going into this _huge_ cave because it looked like where the relics were but, really, there was just this _huge_ Deathstalker just… _stalking_ there!" One of her hands began to animate her story more so distracting rather than useful. "Then we tried fighting it and I used Crescent Rose and we were super cool!"

Weiss coughed into a fist.

"Oh, and Weiss was there too."

She facepalmed, dragging it down her face as she groaned.

Ruby payed no attention, "Anyway, we kept on fighting until suddenly this _awesome_ girl with a hammer came charging in riding on an Ursa with this guy." Jaune opened his mouth to interrupt with how unbelievable that sounded but the energetic girl kept the story going, "But then she _jumped_ from the Ursa to on top of the Deathstalker and starting to ride _that_ thing as well! Isn't that crazy?" The girl threw her hands in the air to punctuate her anecdote's end.

His head creaked towards Weiss for answers, who widened her eyes and flicked her light-blue pupils to the side and back – almost like she was surprised that Jaune had made eye contact with her. The blonde's expression was telling of what he wanted to know.

"It's true," She sighed. Weiss' body folded slightly, seeming annoyed at that fact.

Slowly, Ruby's arms backed down – their short-lived job completed. "So… that's what happened. Oh, hey, Blake."

Blake didn't respond with words, instead only pointing upwards with an indescribable expression of either disbelief, fear or reluctance to accept. Perhaps a mixture of all of them was an appropriate descriptor.

Both blue and silver pairs of eyes turned upwards to lay eyes on what had Blake so enamoured.

Jaune's face began to morph into the same one his partner wore. An explosive sigh left his lips, body slightly drooping at the thought of what was to come. He didn't even want to address it, but couldn't help but ask, "Is that-"

The red-cloaked reaper, true to nature, beat him to it, "Yang!"

Indeed, falling out of the clouds was none other than Ruby's very own sister – Yang. The very same one that very clearly expressed a certain distaste for him – specifically – and the girl he developed a small phobia of.

It was a joke, but Jaune wished it really _was._

"Watch out!" She shouted below her, landing on a single knee and slamming her fist onto the ground in an absolute comic book rendition of a superhero landing. The dirt and rock gave way to her force and as she pushed herself up she greeted everyone with a smile, "Hey, guys! Jaune."

She didn't even break any bones. The world truly was unfair.

"I'm _flattered…_" Jaune deadpanned with a teensy amount of snark.

"You should be," Yang flashed him a grin, showing no obvious antagonism. "I'm in a good mood today. And _because_ I'm in a good mood, I brought a gift." The brawler looked pleased with herself, putting her hands on her hips and closing her eyes expecting showers of thanks from the small gathering around her.

…

"Are we supposed to see something or…"

"Shh…" Yang pushed a finger against Blake's lips, much to the obvious discomfort of the latter. Her golden eyes crossed as she looked at the offending finger with extreme prejudice. "Wait for it."

…

"Aaaaany second now."

…

Weiss folded her arms and turned to Ruby, "I'm starting to think your sister's delusional," she stated flatly.

In response, Ruby shrugged nonchalantly, not seeming to understand what her sister could have even been referring to. In all fairness, even Jaune was starting to doubt Yang's state of mind. What could she have even been-

A large crash, even louder than when Yang had collided with the ground, kicked up untold volumes of dust in the air – blowing back Jaune's hair and forcing him to bring up his arm to block out the dirt.

"Finally," Yang complained, moving from Blake to _whatever_ just decided to land in-between all of them. "You were starting to make me look bad, Pyrrha. Whatcha doing here? Just _dropping in?_"

"You made that same joke not five minutes ago, Yang." The voice emerged first from the dust, and soon did the figure as well.

It truly was Pyrrha that began to rise from the crater she had manufactured in her powerful landing, coming out completely unscathed. What, did Jaune just _land_ wrong or something? Why did everyone seem to pull superhero landings off better than him?

As Yang leant on the red-haired girl's shoulder, her eyes met Jaune's – making them widen slightly. Pyrrha smiled slightly, giving a small wave with a hand, to which the blond currently not invading her personal space returned happily.

Blake seemed glad that Yang was off her, even if it meant leaving another unfortunate soul to her mercy. "Well," she said, crossing her arms and putting most of her weight on one leg, "now that we're all together, do you mind telling us what you were doing – just falling through the sky like that?"

"Oh, you know, just a Giant Nevermore," Yang replied like it was a question she was asked every day and answered with an equally nonchalant tone.

Weiss wasn't taking it. Raising an eyebrow, she pressed on, "So you were up there… because of a Giant Nevermore?"

"Yep," With a pop of the `p`, Yang continued, "Pyrrha said that she saw her javelin get knocked up into the Nevermore's wing, or something, and that made it chase after whatever slashed it."

The white-haired girl's eyes drifted to the redhead next to Yang, "How did that even happen?"

Jaune was interested as Weiss seemed to be. His own sapphire orbs came to Pyrrha for answers, meeting emerald for a split second before the girl tore her eyes away. Her eyes were wide before she composed herself to answer the other's question.

"Oh, you know, just… I just love to throw things!" She laughed nervously.

Weiss' eyebrow raised further, "I thought Yang said it was knocked-"

"Knock! Just sure like to knock things!" Pyrrha was quite obviously desperate to hide something – he didn't need to waste energy sensing her Aura to tell. If her pitchy voice and nervous laughter weren't enough, the girl's obvious reluctance to look Weiss in the eyes was telling. Jaune was silently pondering what she could have done.

At least until her eyes flickered to him for a nanosecond before snapping back.

_Oh, fuck me._

Jaune paled, slowly averting his guilty gaze from the crime scene. Something that Weiss picked up on remarkably well despite the overall discreteness of the action itself.

Her normally perfect posture dropped, "You have _got_ to be kidding me. Somehow, I already knew you would have had a part to play in this."

The blond didn't blame her. It seemed as though, as of lately, wherever he tended to go or do – bad things tended to follow. Quite inconvenient, and _painful,_ really.

"In my defence," Jaune shot his hands up in surrender at the girl's icy glare, "it _was_ going to impale me."

All eyes turned to Pyrrha, even Ruby – who still hadn't yet gotten herself off of the ground, seeming quite comfortable sitting in the grass.

The red-haired girl flinched back at the sudden attention, before laughing nervously again, "I just… _love_ to throw things, haha!" It wasn't working. Pyrrha looked downcast, head dropping to the side as she mumbled, "It was going to go through your hoodie, not _you_…"

Jaune all but copied the movement, "How was _I_ supposed to tell…?"

"In any case, hey – come on, get up," Weiss dragged Ruby up from the arm, the other girl gasping in surprise, "if you somehow got here via Giant Nevermore, where do you suppose it is now?" She placed her hands on her hips aggressively as her voice cut through the air toward Yang.

And Jaune almost fell over when she saw the bigger girl flinch backwards. For her small stature, Weiss certainly had a way with words and actions – much better at interrogating than Vul.

"Ahaha… I dunno…" Jaune could have sworn he saw a bead of sweat flick off of Yang's forehead as Weiss stepped closer – forcing the blonde to back away with her palms showing. Slowly, one of them revealed a finger upwards. "Maybe right above us?"

She was certainly better at getting answers out of her interrogate-ee's, too.

A loud caw sounded above, prompting the entire group to shoot their glares upwards to the massive bird-Grimm that certainly wasn't there seconds prior.

"That's one big bird…" Jaune stated.

Everyone turned to look at him, eyes of a multitude of colours looking at him with disbelief or disdain.

"What? It's true."

Next to take their attention was the rumbling of the ground. Jaune flashed a look to Blake, who met him almost instantly, as the raven-haired girl nodded slowly twice. _Well, this certainly was going tits-up, isn't it?_

What he was expecting was a large, multi-legged Grimm – and to a lesser extent, a party of unnaturally large people. Jaune was largely correct in his expectation.

But he wasn't entirely right.

"Ya-hooo~!" The voice shrieked in something only describable as pure, raw, unadulterated _excitement_.

Jaune was receiving what felt like the sixth feeling of utter shock of the morning. Honestly, he was surprised at the fact that he was still getting surprised. Beacon was a whole lot different than he was expecting. But, really, that was okay. It was something that Jaune was happy for.

Because even if everything that was happening was completely batshit-insane, at least it was exciting.

It didn't excuse the school for being crazy, though, as the blond whispered – shocked, "Holy-"

"God damn-"

"Cramoly… she's still riding that thing!" Ruby said, vocally succeeding her sister. While the red-cloaked girl seemed excited, everyone but her was _anything_ but that.

Nobody could blame them if they saw a ginger, hammer-waving girl yelling and screaming, at the top of her lungs, on massive Deathstalker in delight while the poor figure of a green-clad teen was being flailed around by the Grimm's giant amber stinger.

…

Though, Jaune had to admit, Beacon was _definitely_ exciting. Maybe if he had somehow succeeded in his fool's errand before he met Vul, he would have had a pipe problem in his pants – though right now?

He couldn't help but get the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he fought back something resembling a smile.

Atop the Deathstalker, the girl's face dropped as the Deathstalker stopped its multi-legged charge through the forest. "Wuh-oh," she said, as the giant creature reeled backwards in conjunction with its tail and lurched forwards at tremendous speeds, sending both of the teens firing. Straight towards the group.

"So… is anyone going to try catch them?" Jaune asked.

"Catch me!" The ginger girl screamed happily. The boy flying behind her was screaming in an eerily calm way, which Jaune found pretty impressive, and making his own thoughts on the situation quite obvious.

Blake slipped behind the pillar she once rested on.

Yang slammed her fists together and fire exploding from the impact, eyes as wild as her grin. Jaune took a step away from that.

"Do you _want_ me to get crushed?" Weiss replied haughtily, crossing her arms as if she hadn't yet already.

The blond turned his head to the side, "I don't think I'd be that torn up about it, honestly…"

Pyrrha had somehow escaped from Yang's grasp outside of the boy's perception, who was now next to him as she elbowed his side playfully, "Jaune!"

He buckled slightly at the contact, surprised that she was so touchy. It wasn't that Jaune minded, really, he and Pyrrha did have a pleasant conversation before Initiation in the locker rooms. Truthfully, Jaune did only planned to get directions and leave but noticed that her Aura glow felt _dim_ in comparison to Weiss'.

Not _shattered_ like when your Aura breaks, just _dim_ – uncomfortable and saddened.

And he was thankful that he had an ability like that; he certainly wouldn't have been able to tell from first glance. Call him pessimistic or jaded – hell, say that some of Vul's general defeatism came through – but Jaune had a feeling that there was much more to that than some may have thought.

It wasn't his place to pry, not like he was going to anyway, so the teen just laughed off the gesture as he defended himself, "What? Mama raised a truth-teller; the tooth fairy only comes to good boys and girls."

While Pyrrha took the joke well, Weiss clearly established that she didn't – sending him what Jaune was slowly coining her `Weiss-y glare`.

Gods that hurt. Jaune winced internally, getting the feeling that he never wanted to make a pun again.

"Guys…?" Ruby's voice cut in and drew the group's attention away from their party's strange dynamic. Her finger weakly pointed in the general direction of _upward_ as she slowly shimmied to the side, "I think we should catch them…"

"I got it, sis!" Yang called out confidently, her arms spread wide as her legs braced for her inevitable kickback of catching a speeding person. "Come to mama!"

"Woohoo~! Oof!" Jaune knew from the moment that they met that she was a little unhinged, but not to the _`ride into battle on a Grimm`_ kinds of unhinged. Though, he'd be lying if he said he was surprised.

Nora Valkyrie from this morning's boy's bathroom let out a satisfied sigh in the arms of the blonde, "Wow!" Her face snapped toward Yang's while in her arms, "Thanks, _you!_ Hup!" The hyperactive girl leapt out of the bigger girl's grip and placed her hands on her hips, "Let's go again, Renny! Ren?" One of her hands come up to her forehead, searching for her companion, "Renny? Where are you? Oh, there you are!"

"What-" Nora pointed behind Jaune excitedly. "Oh, for f-"

Ren slammed into Jaune with anything but grace and elegance. The slimmer teen hurtled into the unexpecting blond with all the force of a thousand SDC cargo containers and Jaune hoped that the other had the common sense to activate his own Aura before impact.

Because he didn't.

"Oh my gosh, Jaune, are you alright?" A concerned Ruby Rose asked, bending over to look into the face of a collapsed teen with another collapsed teen in a similar state on his stomach.

"Ruby…?" Was it him, or was the sky blue? Weird. "Why are you upside down…? And why are there three of you?"

Yang appeared next to her sister, her golden mane almost ticking his nose as she inspected a very _woozy_ Jaune. She whistled, "He really took a hit, didn't he?"

"Renny!" Though, despite his state, Nora seemed largely indifferent. She hauled Ren to his feet, the boy instantly regaining consciousness as the blond swore he whispered his desperate cry for help as he was dragged back up.

A hand came to clasp around his forearm and, out of common sense – like a baby grabbing the first thing its hand touches, he did the same around what felt like an arm. The entire world was flipped on his head and the blood sloshed around his brain matter.

Is this what a turd felt like getting flushed down a toilet?

"Bwhaa…?"

Pyrrha managed to sound positive, removing her hand the grip around Jaune's arm as she rubbed the back of her head, "Oh, he'll be fine… just a minor concussion, haha…" Her hand shot back out to grab the boy's shoulders as he almost stumbled over his stationary position, laughing nervously at the looks she received.

Yep, he could feel the rapid shaking of his cerebral cortex slowing down already.

Stepping out of the shadows, Blake's voice was deadly serious – cutting violently into the general lightheartedness of the atmosphere.

"This is great and all, but are we really going to do nothing about _that?_" The raven-haired girl shot a glance upward to the Giant Nevermore circling the party with deadly intent, ready to feast on the idle prey below. "Or _that?_" She next sent a pointed glare to the Giant Deathstalker that was bulldozing through the remaining trees that separated the teens from the creature of pure destruction.

Jaune offered the best he could; the situation called for it. With the tactical genius built up over an entire year of blood, blood and a little alcohol, he commanded, "Bwah?"

Ruby rose up, standing on one of the many boulders surrounding the large pillar the group was gathered at, "Jaune's right! We have to get moving!" Her hand fired into the distance, waving to the gorge-surrounded castle not too far away from here, "If we make it to that bridge, we can separate the two and focus our attention on one! Let's go, team!"

The girl's red cloak fluttered as she led the charge, followed swiftly by Blake, Weiss and Yang. Ren was pushed along by Nora while Pyrrha remained next to Jaune, ready to move.

His blond locks shuffled as Jaune was able to grasp onto a semblance of his previous state of mind. Shaking his head lightly, his eyes laid on the marching group, "Ugh… I feel like I died… are they retreating…?"

Pyrrha began to lightly jog forward, "More so advancing. Come on, Jaune, we don't want to get eaten by the Grimm, do we?"

He looked behind him, grimaced and forced Aura into his legs – making each stride equivalent to bounds and leaps. The red-head kept pace quite easily, face hardened into a competitive grin with a furrowed set of brows.

Jaune turned his head, startled slightly at how fast she was. Noticing his look, Pyrrha's steely determination softened to iron, "You aren't the only one who's knows Aura amplification, you know." Her face returned to a smirk as she ramped up her speed to eleven, blazing past Jaune.

His mouth failed to convey words – though, that made more sense since he had suffered immense head trauma just a few minutes prior. Pyrrha's natural leg-strength must have been absurd for her to get that far just from regular old Aura body-amplification. His mouth then turned upwards in a smile of his own.

Well, she knew Aura amplification, but did she have Aura a_mplification? _

The blonde flooded his entire body with Aura, using it to power his Semblance and forcing his own Aura-amped Aura-amp's energy into his legs – sending him rocketing forth to the centre of the party as he kicked up dust and dirt with each slam of the boots.

"Woah," Nora yelled, face twisted in a face-splitting smile, "you're fast, Jauney! How'd you do that?"

"Yeah," Pyrrha came from behind, still running, with a gloved hand over her mouth as she coughed a small bit, "you just came out of nowhere."

Faint glowing of golden-tinted white dispersed around his legs as the boy shrugged, "A magician never reveals his secrets." Though he knew magic wasn't real, he imagined Nora was the type to believe in it. Magic wasn't real. It wasn't.

Nora scoffed, "Pfft, you're not a _magician,_ silly! You're a _boy!_"

How did that even- in any case, Jaune shook his head and replied with proud tone, "Well, I'll have you know my Mom always said I was magical."

The ginger gasped, taking in a deep breath of air, "That's so _cute!_"

Ren, who was keeping his own footsteps silent, shook his head with a small smile while Pyrrha giggled.

Jaune was running in front of the trio, directly behind Yang, who was behind Blake, who was then – in turn – behind Weiss, who was somehow keeping up with Ruby at the front. Those three were stuck in their own squabble; Weiss questioning how Ruby even came up with this plan while Blake watched on in tired silence and Yang yelling obnoxiously from the back.

And with the possibility of death looming over the teens' shoulders – smiles and laughter in the face of impending doom – Jaune had only one thought in his mind.

If only he could have been like this all the time.

A structure, the bridge they were aiming for, was in sight – only a few more seconds of running until they hit the worn stone of its surface. The black wings of midnight blacked out the sky. Blacked out the sun. Blacked out the light around. Black legs, coal and heavy, shook the ground beneath them. Shook the earth itself. Shook the souls of the hopeful heroes.

To be a hero wasn't to be a huntsman. Jaune knew that. But if he didn't live to see the morning light of tomorrow, he couldn't prove _him_ wrong. So, Jaune would fight and Jaune would live. With the Grimm encroaching, he had to find a way to live for tomorrow.

Because where else did he have to go apart from forward?

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Ah, the wonders of perspective. **

**Many people have noticed that Yang has a certain... _antagonistic_ quality towards Jaune. It was supposed to come off as unreasonable, because _Jaune_ found it unreasonable from his perspective. Hell, even part of Yang herself sees her dislike as unreasonable. Don't think that plot point will be resolved in a single chapter either.**

**And the entire gang's back together! Though, some part of me thinks the way I made them interact was weird. Hopefully, I'll keep learning through experience.**

**A few more hints to plot points that I have yet to expand upon too. We'll see if anyone can figure them out.**

**As always...**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	7. Chapter 7: Initiation, End! Please!

**Author's Notes:**

**Guess who's back. Back again. Shul is back, and kinda tired.**

**Sah my epic gamer guys, gals and everything in between. It's been a long couple of weeks for me, but I found time to actually write this so yaaay. Can you tell I'm tired? **

**I hope that there are minimal mistakes in this chapter. Sucks to read back a chapter a few days after you've written it and then notice a bunch of stupid words spelt wrong - or words spelt _right_ but not the correct word was used. Like `except` and `expect`. I'm staring at the screen with the most disappointing expression ever. Man, lets get onto the chapter and finally wrap up Initiation.**

**Keep the train rolling, keep the story flowing.**

**Word of warning from me of the future: next chapter won't be for a little over a week. I've just gotten done writing chapter 8 with everyone's favourite birdman, so I've got more ground to make.**

* * *

Was it just him or did it just get really dark all of a sudden? A quick glance upwards revealed that it actually _wasn't_ just him – the Nevermore's wingspan was quite literally blacking out the sun.

"That is a _big_ bird…" Jaune said again, head still fixed in position as he stared at the gliding Grimm above. It was needless, he knew, but really – he'd never seen a Nevermore this large out and about Remnant. Same with the Deathstalker.

It was almost like someone had placed them there on purpose.

Yang, who was currently running in front of him, made to look in the same direction. "Uh-huh, yeah, thanks for that– Ruby! What exactly is the plan again?"

Rose petals whiffed past Jaune's face, dragging his attention back down to in front of him. Ruby didn't bother to turn around to answer her sister's question, "If we get on the bridge, that huge Deathstalker behind us will either be forced to _stay_ there or fall into that massive gorge below!"

His features widened. That wasn't a bad plan – totally something he would have thought of, by the way.

Boots on grass turned to boots on cobble as the group started to make the way onto the ruined structure. The Nevermore screeched from the blacked-out skies above, still letting out yet another ear-splitting sound that had Jaune wincing just to bear it. Behind them, the Deathstalker was much the same – unrelenting in its chase.

A voice from his side warned him, "Jaune," it was Pyrrha, "it's not getting any slower and we're getting closer to the bridge." Her voice lowered, and Jaune would have pinpointed it as fear, "At this rate…"

Jaune grit his teeth. It would try to cross the bridge _with _them – whether or not it cared for self-preservation. Grimm were incarnates of destruction, after all; even if it had the _tiniest_ of chances for their deaths, the beast may continue to risk its own demise. Though, it did seem quite intelligent for Grimm standards with how large it is…

No, he wouldn't risk it. Not when there were so many other lives on the line. Ones that could have lived or died thanks to his decision making.

Mossy green covered cracked grey as the party leaped onto the bridge that connected them to a labyrinth of similar-looking bridges – all connected to a singular location, an ancient castle or temple held up by a multitude of pillars.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha warned once more – this time strained and more desperate, "Look out!"

The blonde turned back, noticing that, while it sounded like she shouted with more effort, her voice was much _quieter_. Pyrrha had stopped her jog near where the grass melded into the stone of the bridge – Ren and Nora looking at him with worry, the latter pointing excessively.

But he noticed that they weren't specifically looking _at_ him.

His head snapped to the side of the bridge, out-looking at a void that seemed endless in depth. Though what grabbed his attention was the giant mass of black feather, wearing an ivory mask, heading straight for the middle of the stone structure itself.

Ruby, Weiss and Blake had all but crossed the bridge entirely – each one of them using their innate, given powers or pure agility to traverse the stretch of cobble. That meant that the only ones who would be caught up in the Grimm's self-destructive tackle…

Were him and Yang.

The blonde girl in front of him shoved her arms behind her, the gauntlets – which Jaune realised were the bracelets from when they first met – on her wrist let out a deathly _click_.

"Shit," she cursed – eyes flicking behind her at her yellow gauntlets and then flashed a grin at Jaune, lilac widening with distant fright before she turned around to keep running.

They were jammed.

Red shell casings stuck out of the ejector at an unnatural angle, preventing usage while being proof that it had seen some action before they all met up. Yang tried using her weapons to cross the bridge and dodge the oncoming attack, meaning that they were a form of mobility.

But were they her only form of mobility?

His right leg, coming back down to take another stride forward, shined with a faint golden glow – encompassed with white. He couldn't take the chances. Even if they had their differences, and in Yang's case – general and obvious hatred, Jaune wouldn't fate somebody else for death unless they _really_ deserved it.

Yang didn't deserve to die.

With a Semblance-empowered burst of energy, Jaune leapt forward – overtaking Yang and stopping her from continuing on the bridge. His arms whirled in a slow windmill as they balanced him out, landing a few steps in front of the blonde.

"Jaune, what the hell-"

"No time." Jaune dashed forward and grabbed Yang by her jacket collar, another hand at the hem of it. The light in his legs faded, instead finding itself within both of his arms. The teen's voice was shaky. Even after seeing most of what Remnant had to offer, situations like this were never easy. "Do you trust me?"

"What- hell no! What are you trying to do?!"

Alright he expected that. Jaune winced, cracking a forced smile as he pleaded, "Try _not_ to elbow me in the teeth for this later, alright?"

"Hang on-"

With a low and powerful grunt, the blond stepped forward and hurled Yang well past the halfway point in the bridge all the way to where Pyrrha and the others were. At least, that was where he was aiming.

His arms screamed as the muscles were forced with Aura, powered by the will of his very soul, as Yang's screams of confusion and bloody murder echoed along the gorge walls.

"WHAT THE FUCK, JAUNE, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?! I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL-"

Mostly the latter.

Yang's screams and shouts eventually evolved into a roar of pure rage that was proceeded with a massive explosion of what sounded like the baby of shotgun blast and a napalm bomb. In turn, _that_ was proceeded with a screech of pain from the Deathstalker chasing them – preventing it from getting onto the bridge.

Looks like she got her gauntlets unjammed.

That group could handle a Deathstalker, especially with a furious Yang on their side. In fact, he pitied the scorpion-like Grimm for what was to come. Almost as much as he pitied himself for what was about to happen with the Nevermore still steady on its path of destruction.

Jaune's entire body burst forth with a radiant yellow and white glow as he threw his body as far as he could out of dodge – arms covering his face and legs already in the air, preparing for the lack of footing.

The Nevermore shattered the bridge like it was made of glass, sending huge chunks of stone hurtling through the air at colossal speeds. Jaune would have wagered that it would have looked pretty grandiose and, in a way, beautiful from good enough distance. What Jaune wouldn't bother wagering on was that he was going to fall into an endless pit.

Because he was currently falling into an endless pit.

Fat lot of good that whole _preparing_ himself thing did. His full body amplification really only made it so he wasn't completely blown back by the Nevermore's tailwinds – he wasn't even hit by the Grimm itself despite its humungous wingspan.

Free-falling with, and surrounded by, differently sized chunks of rock – Jaune could do nothing to alter his own trajectory. He peeked from above his arms, eventually letting them flail uselessly upwards and staring upwards into the light.

At least the sun was out again.

…

And it just blacked out. Again.

"Ja-!"

That was weird. The Nevermore wasn't above him, he could tell that much from the deadly screech that was coming from the side – almost like it was celebrating the fact it killed a teenager. _Cheer more, you piece of shit._

"Jau-!"

If only he had a way to just get up. Like, grapple onto the ledge of the nearby rock or platform with his hands, or something.

Hang on.

Jaune came back to life, out of his brainless stupor. Taking a sharp gasp of air, he immediately regretted the action as air came flooding in due to his speed. Now coughing roughly, the falling teen covered his mouth with one hand and tried to fumble around for his grappling hook again.

It felt like déjà vu.

"Come on… come on!" He practically had to yell at himself to get the thoughts past the wind whistling past his ears.

"Jaune!" A black silhouette, covered in shadow yelled again. It shot out a hand as the figure got closer and closer, apparently swinging towards the descending blonde, "Take it!"

Without a second thought, the hand that was itching for his grappling hook flung out to meet whoever was stupid enough to even attempt such a rescue mission.

He would take it obviously, it's not like he _liked_ falling to his death, but it was still a stupid action go forward with – completely irresponsible. Something that a certain someone would do despite everything about such stupid and reckless behaviour.

The shadows of the figure cleared as the momentum from their swing flung the two high into the sky – the light of the sun revealing who came to his rescue.

"Blake?" Jaune was as surprised as he was relieved, the two still flying high as Blake shot him a side glance.

Her gaze found their way back forward, no doubt trying to find a place to land, "You can thank Ruby; she threatened to go down there herself and save you."

"That definitely sounds like her," Jaune smiled softly, sapphire eyes darting in a different direction to Blake's but with a similar intent, wind rushing past his entire body. "Totally had that under control, by the way."

Blake smirked, "Right." Her eyes came to harden as she spoke, "We're going to land next to Ruby and Weiss soon, get ready."

"You're right about one thing," the blonde interrupted, left hand reaching over to his right leg's belt and pulling out the device he was blue-balled from using _twice_ at this point.

The two teens were still rising higher into the air far past the height of the Nevermore, blonde and raven hair fluttering wildly behind them. Amber eyes laid themselves on the focused pupils of sapphire, "What are you talking about…?"

Jaune's arm extended, lining up a shot with his hook-shot that was anywhere _but_ next to Ruby and Weiss, "We're landing soon, get ready!"

With a hiss of rope and a puff of steam, the grappling hook was sent firing towards the back of the massive avian-like Grimm. Such a huge target could never be missed; the spiked end bit of the reinforced rope impaled the feathery flesh with a barely audible sound.

His gloved finger released the trigger, snapping Jaune forward as he pulled Blake along with him, who released a silent gasp in surprise.

Tugging at the device, the hook came free of flesh as the two teens were angled above the Grimm. Jaune let go of Blake's hand and yelled for her to brace. Landing with a roll, the blonde turned his head to see the raven-haired girl crouched and clutching at the beast's large feathers for stability.

"Okay," she shouted, sharply turning her head towards Jaune – causing him to flinch back slightly at the intensity behind her golden stare. "What now?"

Despite the undeniable feeling of fear being present, the blonde took a deep breath – closing his eyes and letting the adrenaline pump while experience took the wheel. Jaune's eyelids rose, revealing glowing pearls of sea-blue. They were filled with determination and will, unblinking despite the fearsome wind that pushed against their faces.

"We need to somehow get this Nevermore to stop flying – or at least prevent it from moving around so much." Crocea Mors revealed herself with a flash of light reflecting off the steel as Jaune pointed to one of the wings, "You take one side, I take the other, and we run across tearing it up as much as we can before we jump off."

"That's insane, how are we supposed to-"

"What about this whole day _isn't?_" Jaune replied, face hardened into a more confident smirk. It wasn't his best plan of action, but it could certainly work. Maybe if he had more time, he would have come up with something a little less reckless.

But he learnt from the best, after all.

Blake shook her head in disbelief, allowing the slightest tug of her lips, "How long do we have?"

Considering the length of the wing and the speed they were able to move at… "Five seconds?" Jaune guessed with a shrug.

The girl's weapon shifted into a blade as she pulled the sheathe from her back – the ribbons attached dancing gracefully. She stabbed one of the two swords into the Grimm's back to keep her steady in the absence of her clutching hand.

"Ready when you are."

Jaune nodded, turning his head towards the side he was responsible for. Left hand grasping the feathers while his right arm was outstretched and holding Crocea Mors, the blond's body radiated once more.

His supplies were about halfway out. Considering everything he had to go through today and the amount of stunts he pulled with his Semblance – not that bad.

Muscles twitched, ready to rupture with power, "Go!"

Blake nodded, keeping her body low and dashing towards the left as Jaune sprinted to the right. The Grimm they were clambering on let out another deafening screech, finally noticing the parasites that were infesting its feathers and crawling across its back.

Luckily, it seemed as though Weiss and Ruby had stopped their ranged assault on the Nevermore long before they had landed. No sudden rocking to shake his movement, no explosions of light or high-calibre sniper rounds whizzing past his face.

Perfect.

The legacy blade inserted itself into the coal flesh with ease, Jaune stabbing the weapon with both of his arms and tearing it along as he ran. Blood and feathers ripped up, spraying black ooze onto the pristine sword and onto Jaune's own trousers and hoodie.

A turn of the head told Jaune that she was doing much the same, wrenching her two swords along the wing before melding them into one and slashing it back and forth against the appendage.

Quickly refocussing, the blond noticed that he was coming up towards the end of the wing. The glow of his body was directed straight into his legs once more as he burst forth – the force behind his jump landing him near the head of the massive bird.

Snapping his eyes next to him, Jaune saw a gun-blade linked with a ribbon – followed by the material growing taught as Blake pulled it, bringing herself to a crouch next to Jaune.

"It's tough, but I think I got through enough," She said, amber eyes conveying the message clearly.

"Same here." He doubted he sliced through as much as Blake, but what he did would be enough to hinder the Nevermore's movement speed and control. Evidence of that was shining through, the flight growing more turbulent as the two communicated.

The next question from her had an obvious answer, "What now?"

Jaune looked at the drop below them, a miniscule speck of black and red waving its arms above her head as a speck of white – just as big – looked into the sky with a faint look of distress. At least it seemed like she cared.

"Now?" Jaune answered with another question, letting Crocea Mors sing as it cut into one of the Grimm's masked eyes, "Now we jump."

Blake eyes widened for a nanosecond before she complied, leaping across and aiming for one of pillars below with almost feline accuracy. Jaune made to follow, but was too slow – the Grimm at his feet buckling with feral anger and pain as its eye was slashed through.

Stumbling to keep his balance centered, the blonde took a knee and desperately sheathed Crocea Mors – completely unwilling to lose it _again_ if he lost his grip on accident. The Nevermore screeched, bucked left and right, back and forth as Jaune struggled to get a grip.

Inching towards the side of the avian-Grimm's head he slowly began to lean off of the side as he body began to lightly glow once more. Gritting his teeth, Jaune could taste the blood that leaked from his gums as he began to pull the Nevermore to the side.

Through pure will, and muscles threatening to snap, the massive creature began to incline to the side – unable to redirect itself with its wings damaged and torn. But that's wasn't to say it didn't try. Large feathery appendages began to flap desperately and wildly with no care for what it would run into.

Which worked into Jaune's favour since he was currently driving the Grimm towards the nearby cliff-side.

Ramming the monster into the spiked edges of the rocky wall, Jaune swore as he almost got himself launched off of its head at the sudden stop. His body shook, the bones in his body vibrating – but he knew that the Nevermore was much worse off.

"Jaune! Over here!" Ruby's voice made it past the screeches of the Nevermore, much louder than he thought it would be. Crazed relief washed over him, knowing that he could probably do _this_ and still live.

It was good timing too, because his arms – even with the power of his Semblance to help them past their limits – were about to give out.

His boots slammed into the side of the Grimm's head, kicking the teen off and sending him backwards into where he heard Ruby. In response, the massive midnight beak of the beast was open wide, breath smelling like rotten corpses and gunpowder, as it let out a final ear-splitting screech of defiance.

The blonde felt that he had enough in him to pull off just _one_ more action out of his belt. Specifically, his torso belt – the one that contained a multitude of dust-based explosives. Jaune's hand swiftly unclipped a canister than was bound with red tape labelled `FIRE` in all capital letters.

Guess what it did.

Target wide and open, Jaune pulled the ringed pin with his left hand – ripping it from the canister – before chucking it into the Nevermore's gullet. The boned beak snapped shut, probably thinking it was part of Jaune and it was getting a smaller taster of its main course.

_Well, be careful; this one's a little spicy._

…

Man, he _nailed _that.

The grenade exploded, streams of fire and shrapnel exploding from within the mouth – escaping through any orifice it could. Orange cascades of flame barrelled out of the Nevermore's nostrils in volumes that shouldn't have been possible and Jaune could have sworn it was about to burst through the eye that he cut through.

At least that _would_ have happened if the Grimm didn't open its beak a second after the detonation took place. The fire still raged, flying forth as its pointed bill parted to let out a smoky shriek.

Uh-oh.

Tearing his arms up, the fire scorched his Aura, lowering his levels even further. His clothes were damaged and none of his equipment was about to prematurely blow – but it _was_ pretty damn warm all of a sudden. An inferno blazed past his body, blowing him back more than he intended in the first place.

It ended up working in his favour; it's not like he could do much else to cross that massive gap – he might as well have caused a little more damage while making the jump.

Ruby yelled again, "Jaune!" In truth, he was relatively fine. Ruby was just being what Jaune thought `being Ruby` was. Not that it helped his red-cloaked friend's perception of things. "Don't worry, I'll catch you!"

Now that was something that he didn't want to happen. Aura or not, Jaune was a pretty heavy guy – and to catch him like some sort of ball would no doubt probably crush a girl of Ruby's petite stature.

Flipping himself around, Jaune uncrossed his arms from his face and began to wave them in an attempt to call Ruby off. "No, no! Don't catch me!"

"Catch you?! Why _wouldn't_ I? I got you, Jaune!" He winced as Ruby very clearly misheard. Now directly looking at the girl, and beginning to get closer and closer to the platform itself, Ruby began to rush towards the blond's landing zone in a blur of roses.

But damn it, she couldn't have been _that_ fixated on catching him, could she? "I said _don't_ catch me! _Don't_ catch me!"

Ruby began to nod quickly, arms spread wide and prepared.

If anything, she was prepared to get hit by a seventy or so kilogram male covered in dangerous explosives and various weapons. "_Do_ catch you? What do you think I'm doing? I- woah!" Below her combat boots appeared a glowing circle, a white snowflake emblazoned within.

It tore her away from her spot, dragging her away in a way that made it seem like she was being pulled from the hood. Pure white turned to pitch black as the snowflake within morphed and shifted to fold in on itself – creating a more intricate pattern in the process.

Being constricted to the force of gravity for the majority of his life, you could probably imagine Jaune's sudden shock at that all being thrown at the window.

Pretty damn shocking.

It grew in size, encompassing more of the ruined temple platform before he slammed into the stone below. That was the plan, but like many other of the plans he's formulated over the course of the past few hours – it did not go according to his mental schematics.

Hovering suspended in the air with little to no repercussion on his body, Jaune let out straining noises, trying to keep his balance in the anti-gravity environment.

"Whoa, whoooa, whoa-"

At least as long as it remained.

"Owch! Damn it…"

It didn't remain long.

"What were you thinking, Ruby?" Weiss lowered her rapier, sounding as haughty and as self-important as she ever did.

Putting two and two together wasn't hard, at least if you were sober. Luckily, this was one of Jaune's better days – being able to piece together that the gravity phenomenon was linked into Weiss' weapon or Semblance, in one way or another.

His mind flashed back to the locker room, the glowing red rapier pointed straight at his jugular, only after the chamber had spun onto that specific colour. Did it conduct dust? That would make sense if there was a variation of _black _gravity dust that she had made for her somehow.

Even the regular purple crap was expensive as all hell – he would know, he used it with his weapon, after all.

The white-haired girl continued her berating, "You could have been crushed to _smithereens!_ Did you see how fast he was moving?"

Ruby was on the floor, similar to how Jaune was, after being pulled by – what seemed like – magic. But Jaune knew better, such a concept didn't even deserve to be entertained. Magic didn't exist. Totally.

Ruby shook her head, standing up while smoothing out her skirt while pouting cutely, "Wasn't _that_ fast… I could _so_ move faster…" That same head snapped towards Jaune with a huge smile. "Jaune!" Ruby burst forward in a hurricane of petals, leaving Weiss to cough amongst the red storm.

Jaune was barely sat up before the floral explosion knocked him back down in a tight hug – her small arms wrapped around his torso. "I thought you were going to _die! _But then you were like _hwaaah_ and _hiyaaah_ and then _drove_ a Nevermore into a cliff! That was so cool!"

Was it? Well, maybe it was. But there were more… _pressing _matters to attend to. Jaune craned his neck outwards, not really willing to address it but doing it anyway, "Hey, Ruby, you're a little… close." It's not like he didn't appreciate the gesture, or anything.

It was just that it wasn't every day girls just _did_ that, you know? Especially when sometimes there were things in the way. Ruby's things were pretty nice.

_Hey, me, degeneracy called – it's looking for someone wearing a tacky red cape. Heard of him? _Jaune cursed his own imagination for wandering off in that direction. It was all Vul's fault, somehow. That much he was sure of.

Her silver eyes widened as she was back on her feet faster than Jaune could blink – the only real proof that it happened being the small amount of petals floating around. "Whoops! Heh heh… sorry." Ruby let out an adorable noise as she struggled to pull Jaune to his feet.

"It's fine." He grunted as the action brought him back to verticality, slowly moving his face away from the girl. Jaune wasn't about to let anyone else acknowledge the small tint of pink on his face. He was a growing boy, let the hormones run free.

Blake appeared suddenly next to him – her form dropped next to a pillar, the landing as silent as when they became partners. The click of Weiss' heels were getting closer and closer as she stood near Ruby, crossing her arms as the rapier she once held was now at her hip.

The four stood looking off of the empty space beyond the edge of the temple platform. Red, white, black and yellow staring at the monstrous mass that managed to raise itself after being scraped against a cliff. It dove, picking up as much as wind as it could under its torn wings, before coming back up – albeit much shakier than before – and made the four cover their faces from the tailwind kicked up.

It subsided as Blake turned to face the group, "Okay, what's the plan now?"

Jaune shot her slight look, born of a mixture of amusement and annoyance at her curiosity, "How many times are you going to say that today?"

"As many times as I need to. What are we doing now, Jaune?"

And like that, the raven-haired girl had just placed everything onto his shoulders. Weiss and Ruby turned to look at him, one looking skeptical while the other just seemed genuinely curious – placing a finger to her mouth.

His flat look towards Blake said it all but just in case, "Thanks, Blake."

Blake shrugged, half closing her eyes, "You got us this far into this mess, now you get us out. What do we do now?"

A singular eyebrow found its way quirked upward before Jaune shook his head, letting the thoughts run through. If his partner was about to put him in charge of this ship – he would make the voyage the best way he could.

Barely and with many bruises.

"Tell me again why we're listening to this… _guy_ again?" Weiss asked, obviously less an enthusiastic at the thought of following Jaune's lead.

Jaune opened his eyes, turning his body to full face Weiss – his own form towering over hers, "Weiss."

She took a step back, "W-what is it?"

One of the blond's gloved hands gestured to the weapon that lie on her hilt, pointing with all fingers extended, "Your weapon, it conducts dust, right?"

It was evident that she was taken slightly aback by the observation as she her head flinched backwards, her cold blue eyes looking up and down Jaune. "It does, what of it?"

"And you have ice dust, don't you?"

Her look grew even more suspicious, "How do you know?"

Jaune thought it was wise not to mention the light blue marker he saw on the chamber's surface. "Lucky guess." He turned to get a good look at the Nevermore, its flight path slow and weary – slowed extensively. Calling out, Jaune didn't bother to look back, "Those symbols of yours, you can pass dust through those, can't you?"

"They can," Weiss' voice grew frustrated – inquisitive. "All of these questions, Arc, what are you trying to get at?"

A single finger pointed upwards at the Grimm. Jaune kept it there, this time acknowledging Weiss and facing her, "Think you could freeze those wings? Easy target."

Her icy eyes blinked, as if taking in something, before she closed them fully and began walking forward next to Jaune. Revealing their colour again, Weiss' chin rose to get a better view of the Nevermore, "Theoretically. Though, it's too far away for me to create a glyph – let alone control its specific location."

"No problem," Jaune opened his palm, filling it with a golden glow. "I have something just for that." Extending his arm, the teen cusped his hand over her snow-white shoulder and began to flow his Aura through. Weiss tried to back away, but Jaune held tighter, reassuring her with honest sapphire eyes, "Bear with me for a second, okay?"

Reluctantly, Weiss complied; her eyelids getting heavier for some reason. They snapped back open as she gasped, startled by the sensation that she undoubtedly felt. "What did you just do?"

"There, that should do it. Try using your Semblance now."

Weiss regarded Jaune in a manner he was getting accustomed to despite them only having met a day ago. "How did you know it was my Semblance?" She asked.

Jaune shrugged, "Lucky guess."

It was true, really. Not many people this day and age could just conjure up a mystical lava-lamp snow-flake ring out of sheer nothingness. Not many people, period. But Weiss didn't see it that way, making a show of giving a cute pout with furrowed brows – completely taking Jaune off guard.

Weiss? Cute? Even if it was only a day, the amount of time Jaune had spent with the girl was enough to make him think those two words held no place together. She wasn't as bad as Yang, though.

Jaune felt a chilling sensation down the back of his spine.

Drawing her rapier, Weiss held it vertically – parallel to her face – with both hands. Once again, her eyes shut themselves as she appeared to be in immense focus. Her voice came out surprised, "I-I can feel it. I can reach it. It's in range…?" Her last statement came out as more of a question, one doubtful eye staring down the blonde beside her, "What exactly did you do to me, Arc?"

"Call it encouragement," he evaded. "When I give the word, create your glyphs and pump them with ice to freeze over its wings, got it?

Another hesitant second.

Eventually, Weiss turned her attention away from Jaune, closing her eyes once again as she attempted to grasp the location of the Nevermore once again. "Of course I do; who do you think I am? This task will be simple." She replied proudly.

_Yeah, thanks to me. _Jaune rolled his eyes, and twisted backwards to meet the other two members of their little action squad. "Blake, your ribbon is reinforced, right?"

Black hair bobbed as she nodded swiftly, narrow golden eyes meeting Jaune's in distinct attention, "Yes. It could take the weight of a Goliath on a good day."

Jaune smiled, "Is today a good day?"

Blake smirked, giving an indifferent shrug, "It's alright."

"Good enough. Ruby-" Her silver eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Jaune was afraid she was about to pop into a pile of rose petals due to the excitement, like a little red balloon.

"Yes?"

"Okay, first," Both of Jaune's hands landed firmly on her shoulders, squeezing them slightly as he tilted his head forward. "Calm down."

Ruby took in a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "Okay, calm. Now what?!"

She wasn't calm.

He'd work with it. "I'm having Weiss freeze over the Nevermore's wings. Once she does, it's going to be falling down in an extremely predictable trajectory. What I want you to do is-"

She gasped, leaning in – starry eyed, "Slice right through it?!" Her trembling voice was filled with much more elation than a young girl should ever have for wanting to kill something. Maybe encouraging the beast within wasn't the best idea.

But Jaune never was the most responsible person, and he sure as hell wasn't about to start here.

"Right through its neck."

Ruby's smile widened.

Jaune let go of the shaking girl's shoulders, jogging around to a nearby pillar. The cogs in his head turned, formulating what to do. This was insane. Absolutely crazy. Under no circumstance should this have been entertaining or feel like a break in any way or capacity. So why did Jaune wear a smile of his own? It was plastered across his face, truthful and honest. To some, he might have been seen as a madman. So why _was_ he smiling?

Really? This all just seemed like fun.

Not one time in the past year did he feel this way when travelling around Remnant with Vul. Not once. There was so much of… of everything. Pain and destruction. Blood and death. People and betrayal. And, sure, the possibility of death was still here – they were fighting a Nevermore that was flying across a gap of infinite endlessness for crying out loud!

But it just felt different.

"Blake, ribbon!" A gunshot rang out as the gun-blade came whirling towards his hand. Against all odds, the handle landed perfectly in his palm – making Jaune stare at it before he shrugged and wrapped it around the pillar.

Throwing it back, the only difference being the lack of gunshot, Blake caught the weapon and stared at both him and it with confusion before she visibly piecing together Jaune's idea. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Her amber eyes were filled mirth as opposed to intrigue as she chucked the ribbon back with another shot.

"Well." His hands found their way toward the weapon this time, shooting forward to wrap his fingers around it, "There's only one way to find out."

Back and forth the strangely long ribbon came, with each wrap around making the line grow taught with each rotation. Like a well-oiled machine, both Jaune and Blake repeated the process over and over until the voice of Ruby yelled out to them.

"Guys! Weiss says that this is going to be our best shot!"

Cerulean looked up from its work. The Nevermore was circling the platform slowly, but this time it was hovering the high above the cliff opposite to the group. If Ruby was to be fired from their makeshift slingshot now, she could easily land on top of the cliff and complete her role unharmed.

"Alright, that should be good enough. Thanks, Blake." She nodded as Jaune knotted the gun itself at the behind the center of the wrapped black material. "Ruby!" She turned almost instantly, waiting for the words to be spoken.

And Jaune would provide, "It's time."

Ruby exploded into roses, leaving Weiss once again in the dust of her petals. Though this time, the most she had to give was a furrowed brow due to her deep concentration.

Her weapon, Crescent Rose shifted into its scythe form as she hooked the edge over the midnight cloth – pushing it back slightly at the weight. Blake wasn't lying – that ribbon was tougher than it looked. "Send me in, Jaune, I'm _ready._" The small girl growled menacingly.

"Hold on for a second," Jaune replied, not yet happy with sending Ruby off without insurance. For what he planned to be the final time today – the blond's palm began to glow as his Aura to fuelled his semblance once more. His hand rose itself, reaching over the small barrier between the two and clutching the girl's forearm.

"Huh?" Ruby didn't expect her friend to grab her, making her whirl around to take a look at what was happening. Briefly glancing at his hand on her arm, silver trailed upwards to Jaune's face. "Is that the same thing you gave to Weiss?"

The blonde nodded, not at all taken by surprise. Ruby seemed like the type to catch on quickly, much like himself. "Yeah, do you trust me?"

Her head tilted as she shut her eyes, letting a few red-tipped bangs fall over her face. Jaune found her toothy grin infectious. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?" He made an effort not to elaborate on his question. Her naivety truly was as endearing and inspiring as it was worrying. Complaining about it wasn't something the blond was about to do.

"Right." As Jaune concentrated to use his discovered ability, Ruby turned around and focused herself at the task on hand – her target in the clouds.

His Semblance manipulated to work Aura. Well, work _with_ it. As a by-product of training it, he managed to attune himself so much so to the inner-workings of Aura that he developed the ability to sense and thereby _understand_ it. At least to an extent.

But that extent told him of Weiss' concentration, Blake's determination and Ruby's hope. Each one of their Auras, their _souls, _told him of that. And while he could understand others, his own feelings and thoughts were much harder to determine and comprehend. Everything was scattered and fragmented to him.

But in there here and now, the pieces unified into one picture – one job. Work with these three girls to take down that Nevermore and secure his place at Beacon.

He felt the connection between him and Ruby open up, allowing him to gently move his own Aura through and work on her speed – her Semblance. Again, he guessed as much. People didn't really explode into a gale of rose petals and get from zero to the speed of sound in a split second. Slowly, the feelings of red were coated with gold-tinted white as the glow of his hand deluged Ruby's arm.

"A-ahh… Mmfffp! More…" Ruby bit her lip, almost drawing blood as her head jerked forward at the intense sensation she must have felt.

In an instant Jaune drew his hand back and took a defensive stance, arms raised in the air. Somewhere in front of them, he was sure that Weiss had stumbled over herself and somehow ended up on the floor. Blake stood by a pillar, the sheathe end of her blade drawn and ready, but a crimson tint to her features.

The girl opened her eyes, probably not even aware that they were closed in the first place. Her head span back and forth, looking to the others – uncertainty written across her face. "…W-what? What happened? I feel… faster – lighter."

He shot a suspicious look to Blake, who gave an equally bewildered glance to him. Did she really not…?

Jaune slapped himself on the cheeks, much to the surprise of Ruby – who recoiled at the action. Shaking off the pain, he wrapped the remainder of the gun-blade's ribbon around his wrist. It was the part he knotted at the center.

"You've already noticed – but you'll be able to move _much_ faster." The blonde gave the ribbon a test pull. Tight. Good. "Aim right for the neck while the Nevermore's coming down and slash right through."

It was almost like the past minute went forgotten as Ruby gave him a single, powerful nod. It had only been a day, but Jaune would have thought that her smile defined her. "Got it."

"Weiss! How's it lining up?"

She called back, recovered and once more in complete concentration, "It's in range! If you want its wings frozen, now is the time to do so!"

No time like the present. "Do it!" Jaune yelled out as he began to fuel his body with the remainder of his Aura.

Blake clambered up the nearby pillars, jumping off of each foundation and making her way up to the top to get a better vantage point. It looked as though her boots had some sort of magnetic attraction to the surfaces she was clinging to, but it simply wasn't the case. It was pulled from a pool of both talent and skill.

With terrifying levels of agility and coordination, she rebounded from each vertical plane as her fingers gripped the edge of the apex part as the girl pulled herself upward. She was just in time to see the spectacle unfold.

Two massive ornamental circles, embellished with snowflakes of the purest white began to illuminate the black wings of the Nevermore. Ice formed lightly. Its frozen texture scattered scarcely across the flesh until the two glowing symbols began to rotate faster.

Faster and faster, the gyration appeared violent – almost like a saw blade. They came to an instantaneous halt before the size of the discs grew immensely in size, compacted and shattered with an audible noise. Each segment was rapid and direct, coming one after the other.

All of a sudden, a glacier bloomed across the Grimm's appendages – encasing both of the things in a frozen prison. Huge puffs of chilled air flew off from the tips of the icy spikes that patterned the wing's edge. It was undeniably beautiful.

A ghastly squawk from the Nevermore's beak proved that it begged to differ.

It tried to move its wings to no avail, the action making the tension of its efforts visible to all parties. With no way to properly move forward, the Grimm screeched as it fell onto its back in mid-air – letting the frozen appendages thrash around uselessly above its body. Flakes of ice glistened from a distance, shedding off of the beast as it plummeted.

"Hrrgh!" Jaune's voice groaned from below her.

Her attention snapped downwards to see that the blonde's face was warped in a fierce scowl – his teeth grit as he began to pull back the slingshot. Her ribbon was stiff against his wrist, growing tighter as he continued heave and ho.

Across his body was smouldering with a flickering white. Each yank was supported by his combat boots digging into the ground under him. Ruby hung onto the ribbon with her scythe, absolutely buzzing with exhilaration – winds seemingly collating around her dress, making her red cloak flitter.

"Ruby, are you ready?!" Jaune managed to pant out. One of his eyes was closed as he attempted to steady himself – the black ribbon prepared to outburst with force.

It was like he didn't even have to ask. Her answer came as fast as Jaune asked the question.

"Yes!"

Undoing the twirl of cloth around his wrist, he held strong as the glow around his body crackled. No time left. He let go of the ribbon, making the black material snap forward and send Ruby rocketing forward. Jaune himself was blown back by the very action breaking the sound barrier.

Pure shock caused him to tumble backwards, rolling on his back against the temple floor as the force of the air shattered his Aura. A cloud of kicked-up dust covered the crumble of yellow. Looks like he was finally out. Not bad for a day's work.

Balancing himself on his elbows and forearms, Jaune inclined his head upwards to watch Ruby _soar._ Like a meteorite, she flew - trails of blazing rose petals were littered across the open air. He could only watch in distant amazement as the tiny girl continued to accelerate – Crescent Rose, that scythe of hers, locked under her elbows as she fired the sniper function to rotate her.

Ruby was a hurricane – a tempest. A shooting star, followed by a shower of red that became the edge of her fatal rotation. They almost appeared razor sharp as her battle-cry was audible from his position.

Blake and Weiss were in similar shock and Jaune let a satisfied smile grace his features. His sapphire eyes rose to bear witness to the unbelievable display once more.

_Go get 'em, Ruby._

The Nevermore's head was severed straight from the neck in an ultimate, lethal strike. Showers of black blood transfigured into a rain of soot – dancing within the cloud of roses as Ruby's boots dug into the land on top of the opposite cliff. Similarly, her scythe ploughed the dirt, bringing her to a complete stop.

And as the beheaded Grimm began to descend further into the abyss below – Ruby stood tall from her perch, victorious and smiling. Her hood fluttered and her eyes caught the light, all of this way apart. She was even in a cheesy little pose that Jaune had to admit was pretty cool, all things considered.

What was this high? He had never before experienced anything like it.

Well, one thing was for sure. As Jaune traded joyful looks on the floor between Blake and Weiss, and words of congratulations were shared amongst the trio, he understood that maybe there was hope to be had after all.

Maybe there was hope for him after all.

/-/

The applause was deafening. Who knew Beacon had so many students and faculty within it? Thinking about it, it _did_ make sense, but compared to yesterday – this was insane.

"Russel Thrush, Cardin Winchester, Dove Bronzewing and Sky Lark. The four of you managed to retrieve the black bishop pieces and, from this day forth, you will work as Team CRDL – led by…"

Silence.

"Cardin Winchester."

Once again, the clapping came back at full force. It was pretty bad at the front row, too. Jaune could feel the nerves building up and the swear pouring down. Honestly, it was impressive how Professor Ozpin could even present the ceremony with so much charisma. The silver-haired headmaster essentially _oozed _it out of his being.

Some men were just men of the people. Such was the unfairness of life.

He felt a sharp prodding against his ribs. He jumped back slightly, turning his head to see Ruby with a smile. "You'll be fine, Jaune, don't worry!" The red-hooded girl was sat to his left while Blake was to his right. Weiss on Ruby's other side, crossing her arms and watching the procession with undivided attention.

Jaune resisted the urge to roll his eyes and laugh, "Ruby."

"Yeah?"

"Your knees are trembling."

Her once triumphant attitude broke apart as she stammered and stuttered to keep up her façade. Ruby's eyes darted to her legs, attempting to cover them as she replied, "Eek! N-no they aren't! You're just imagining things… heh, normal knees… today's been _real_ hard on you, huh?"

She probably didn't even mean it and was trying to redirect his attention, but Jaune found the statement to be true in more ways than one. Today certainly happened. "Ruby?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Thank you. For trying to cheer me up." She seemed like the type to want to do as much good, no matter what. The type to want to save everyone.

The self-destructive type.

Ruby's blubbering ceased as her bright smile returned, "Yeah. No problem!"

The click of heels found themselves in front of the four teenagers. She turned promptly, pivoting on her footing as she tapped meticulously on the device she held in her arms. The stage was actually quite tall and her presence did nothing to hinder the vision of the people watching the grand event.

At least if you're name didn't rhyme with lawn, jewellery, price or cake

"You four are on after the next team. Please be prepared to make your way on stage," She informed – nodding her head towards the staircase leading upward and around.

Getting a better observation, Jaune recognised her as the woman who stood next to Ozpin both at Induction and Initiation, most likely his secretary or vice-principal. Judging by the tired look on her face and the constant sentiment that she would explode in anger at any moment – he was guessing the former. No vice-principal would look that on edge.

Looked like a woman with way too much paperwork to deal with.

Each one of them nodded, earning an understanding nod back from the woman who began to make rounds across the groups of students.

"Ooh, ooh – Jaune, look! It's Yang!" Ruby pulled his sleeve and pointed happily on the stage.

With his attention redirected, Jaune had no choice but to look up. Sure enough, the fiery blonde stood confidently on stage – arms crossed with her lips pulled into a fearsome grin. She was next to Pyrrha who, by comparison, was much more akin to an angel next to a demon.

Her gloved hands were linked in front of her as she stood tall, but not arrogant. Nora had an excitable smile that you probably cut yourself on, while Ren would have seemed disinterested if it wasn't for the ghost of a pleased pull on his features.

"Pyrrha Nikos, Yang Xiao-Long, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie. The four of you managed to retrieve the white rook pieces and, from this day forth, you will work as Team Prismarine – led by…"

The professor's smooth voice trailed off, letting the absence of words wash over the audience.

"Pyrrha Nikos."

Cheers and applause, noticeably much larger than the previous team, as the red-haired girl received congratulations from her comrades on stage. Yang gave her multiple solid pats on the back while Nora, for all intents and purposes, leapt onto the girl's arm and was hanging off of it. Ren came up not long after, offering a nod of approval as the newly formed team celebrated – the letters `PYRN` appearing on the screen behind them.

Pyrrha's emerald eyes tore themselves from her friends on stage as she began to scan the audience. She found what she was looking for. She found Jaune. In response, he offered a thumbs up and a smile of his own – to which she widened her eyes before nodding with furrowed brows. Definitely seemed like the competitive type, for sure.

Ozpin's head slowly turned off-stage, smiling whimsically. "Will the next team please make their way towards the stage?" His eyes – his being… Jaune swore that it was all aimed at him. He couldn't even move. All of the intensity focused-

"Jaune, come on! We're late! I can't believe we're _late!_" Ruby exploded into roses yet another time. Really, Jaune should have been thankful for it.

"That dolt… doesn't she know we're supposed to all go up together?" Her partner lamented, stomping her way towards the staircase. It shouldn't have been too hard considering Ruby literally left a trail of red in her path.

Blake was next to stand, turning her body halfway and nodding her head to where they had to go expectantly. Her amber eyes glowed but they no longer instilled fear over him, as they once admittedly did.

Guess it was his time to shine, much to his dismay.

The two jogged up on stage, where Ruby was stood ramrod straight in obvious stage-fright and Weiss was posed elegantly in front of the audience – seemingly much more acclimated to the limelight. Luckily Jaune only had a case of the shakes, barely noticeable.

He hoped, anyway.

"Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc, Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna. The four of you managed to retrieve the white knight pieces and, from this day forth, you will work as Team Raspberry – led by…"

Gods it was so much worse on stage. Jaune felt like he would melt under the electrical silence the headmaster had forced upon the entire academy.

"Ruby Rose."

Cheers erupted. Weiss kept her face neutral, offering her congratulations to Ruby as the girl hugged her in return. Jaune did much the same, nodding and smiling at Ruby while Blake crossed her arms and tilted her head in the general direction of the commotion across from them.

Though, as the snow-white girl attempted to pry Ruby off of her – Jaune couldn't help but shake the presence of something higher. Something shocked. Something surprised. Something sad. It was freezing; it felt for his face and grasped at the flesh. It was something powerful.

Weiss' true feelings were powerful.

Her Aura was cold like ice.

"Congrats, Ruby." Jaune said, finally stepping towards the short girl after the even shorter girl managed to escape her clutches. "You deserve it."

Ruby shied away from the praise, scratching her cheek, "Awww, shucks… you don't mean it, really."

Amidst the roaring cheers that still echoed across the hall, he continued, "No, I do."

Her head was fully turned at this point. A complete one eighty. "T-thank you…"

"Sorry what? This crowd's kind of loud, don't you think? Anyway, let's get off this stage – man, I am _tired._" He yawned to emphasize, stretching his arms as he walked off the stage.

Weiss, Blake and even Ozpin tracked the blond as he strutted off-stage via the stairway. Even some of the crowd were making questioning noises – though applause was still present. Really, Ruby was just happy that he wasn't there to see the blush on her face. Why did he have to be so nice and understanding?! Similarly, Jaune was happy that nobody else could see the pink rising to his cheeks.

She got to him in the same way, damn it! The very same way she first said it during the post-Induction sleepover! He slammed his metaphysical head against the confines of his mental being while contemplating slamming his actual head against the wall next to him.

"Well," Ozpin chuckled, drawing the attention of the girls left on stage not dealing with hormonal imbalances. "Imagine his surprise when he finds out that you're all sharing a dorm room."

Weiss and Blake almost fell over. Ruby had already fainted.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**And on that note, Initiation is finally wrapped up!**

**I'm actually kind of proud with how I portrayed the fight against the Nevermore. Please, tell me how I did since it might be possible that I didn't spend enough time on certain parts or spent _too_ much time on others. **

**There were parts I was iffy on and where I don't think I wrote as well as I could. For example, when Blake and Jaune were running atop the Nevermore to tear up its wings. Followed up by the whole – fire in the Nevermore's hole – thing with the grenade.**

**And yeah, I'm trying to slowly flesh out Jaune's perception on the world without fully explaining it. I'll need to get ahead with the Qrowments before I do that.**

**Speaking of, there haven't been any for the past two or three chapters – right? That'll change soon; don't you worry your cute little faces off.**

**Funny thing about the whole Ruby fiasco after Jaune uses his Semblance: **

**I finished writing the chapter for the night since I was absolutely shattered and when I woke up and opened my Word doc again I see in all caps: `TOTALLY HAVE RUBY MOAN AFTER JAUNE USES HIS SEMBLANCE`. That alone had me just staring at my PC screen like, "…wut?"**

**After writing it up, I spent like five minutes looking at the bit wondering what the hell I was doing. ****I ended up keeping it just for comic relief since a part of me still found it hilarious that innocent and pure Ruby is unintentionally being sexual. **

**Just know that if I return to that dynamic, it's NEVER happening in front of Yang and it's going to be amazing. (why do i do this to myself)**

**Also Teams PYRN (Prismarine) and RASB (Raspberry) are a thing now! **

**Please note, I am _fully_ aware that prismarine isn't a colour. Hell, it isn't even a word in general. ****In fact, here's an omake of sorts to give you an idea of Team PYRN got its name.**

* * *

Glynda sighed, eyes shut in frustration as she pinched her nose. Ozpin, just minutes before the ceremony had continued to launch every single idea of a team name at her. Some didn't even make sense.

"Prismarine?" She asked - incredulous, "Ozpin, that isn't even a _colour_. You could have just named them Prism and be done with it!"

Ozpin sipped at his mug while his vice-principal relayed her concerns. Slowly, it was brought back down to see an infuriated Glynda Goodwitch – expecting answers and expecting them _now_.

"Come now, do you really think _Prism_ as good a name as _Prismarine?_ Three syllables are better than one. At least, most of the time." The headmaster's voice was soft and soothing. Unfortunately for him, it would take much more than a calm voice to quell the wrath of an angry Goodwitch. "And anyway, there are no particular… _rules_ about having to name the teams after a colour."

Glynda's voice rose, to which the headmaster bore with grace and ruptured eardrums, "Yes, there are! _You _made them!" She threw her hands in the air, pacing back and forth. "You may be the headmaster, but you can't just go around _making up entire words_ and naming teams after them!"

Gently, he laid down his mug on a nearby and tucked his cane underneath his armpit. "Alright then, Glynda, look at me."

The vice-principal stopped her infernal march and crossed her arms defiantly, body turned away from her damned employer.

"Don't be like that… look at me."

No response.

"Please, entertain me."

Nothing.

"If not for me, then for an old friend."

A defeated sigh. She turned on her heel, one knee cocked upwards and arms still crossed as her bright green eyes were flat, but sharp. "Go on," she commanded.

Ozpin chuckled as he set the scene, "Close your eyes and imagine…"

She did as told, shutting her eyelids and awaiting what the silver-haired man had to say.

"Imagine a whole new world, a world where the seas are _prismarine_ and the skies are _prismarine._ Imagine the sea creatures below – coloured _prismarine_ – and where hidden and ancient _prismarine_ temples lie in wait. Imagine eyes – bright, _prismarine_ eyes – like the ocean… imagine-"

"Alright!" Glynda him off with a held up hand. Her breath was unsteady as she panted to regain it. "I get it."

Ozpin had long since returned to his mug, taking a celebratory sip – if only to hide his smug smile. And Glynda knew that was why he did it.

That sly wizarding bastard.

* * *

**Totally how I would imagine it going down. **

**This A/N has been stupidly long so if you read this far in, thanks! I don't think I could write another word after all of this. Taken so much creative juice to do so already.**

**As always…**

**Hang on- what's going on? What do you mean we've got a- Wait! You can't-!**

* * *

Hauling the worn backpack over his coated shoulder, the man pushed the lodge door open with ease – allowing the bright light to blind his vison for a second. Just a second.

"Honey… are you sure about all of… well… this?" His beautiful wife looked apprehensive about the whole ordeal. She never was quite the same after what happened that one fateful night. Even with the doubt scribbled across her face – he couldn't help but stare lovingly into her beautiful emerald eyes.

Turning around to meet the woman who questioned him, the man replied, "I have to, sweetie." He stepped forward, leaning in and giving a loving kiss on her lips. It was one that she reciprocated. "I've asked the village guard to be on high-alert, though you know as well as anyone that no Grimm ever dare set foot 'round these parts."

She leant in, her blonde locks ticking his forehead as they touched affectionately. "And who do we have to thank for that?"

He chuckled.

It was early morning. Very early morning. He had a boat to catch after all. "The girls are all still asleep, right?"

"Of course." They stayed in their embrace for a second before the woman stepped back, an amused expression pulling her features. "You want me to tell them that you love them for you, don't you?"

His own features contorted as he struggled to find the words, "Well, I… you know…"

She let out an entrancing laugh, full of motherly love for both her husband and the children he knew she loved so much. "Oh, dear… has the big, scary huntsman turned into a softie after all these years?" Her laughter ceased, expression lowering alongside her voice. "Why can't you just do it yourself? You know they won't mind…"

"You know it's not that easy."

She raised her head, her emerald eyes locking onto his deep sapphire. Understanding. Considerate. What he fell in love with her for.

"I know."

"Mommy…?"

His wife swivelled backwards, her long knee-length skirt fluttering upward slightly at the rotation. Kneeling down, she picked up the little girl whose voice was tired and unsteady.

"Aw, my little Amber… what are you doing awake so early?" Like she always did, she treated their children with tender care. His wife's voice was sweet and elegant in an attempt to sooth the girl.

"I heard-" his youngest daughter yawned, both hands wrapped around the present that her brother got for her. It was for her most recent birthday. "I heard Daddy and Mommy talking… so I came to say bye-bye."

She made it seem as though he was always away. And in a way, she was right. And it broke his heart.

He tried his best and made as much time as he could for his daughters, but he wasn't yet retired. He had so much more to do. Especially after…

Suddenly, the man found himself within the lodge cabin again – stepping closer towards his groggy daughter. Held from under the legs by his wife, he found himself leaning in and placing a kiss on her head as he whispered, "Daddy loves you, sweetheart."

This time, his daughter spoke, nodding cheerfully despite her apparent grogginess, "I know."

Smiling, he backed away from his little girl – only to find himself face to face with a giggling wife, "What?"

She waved off his advances, "Nothing, nothing… I'll make sure to pass your message onto the other girls – don't you worry."

"No, wait. What? What were you laughing at?"

His wife continued giggling as she began to push him out of the lodge door. "Come on, go now or you won't want to leave. Come on, go!" She was successful in her endeavour. He was stood out in the light while she was safely within the cabin. A pointed finger was directly aimed at his face – green eyes accusing, "And don't you dare come back without finishing what you went out to do."

He was left wide-eyed before shaking his head at his own stupidity. He needed that. "I wouldn't dream of it. I'll see you later, June."

Nodding firmly, her expression softened back into one moulded of pure love. "Make sure of that."

"You too, Amber."

"Mmmffpl…" His youngest mumbled into the chest of his beloved – drool dampening the material. She was already asleep.

Hauling the worn backpack over his coated shoulder, the man gave a wave over his shoulder as he began to walk away from the cabin. The log door closed shut, leaving the faces of his wife and daughters home.

But not all of his daughters, unfortunately.

"You better find him out there, Dad." The voice was controlled, cautious. Some may have said inherently seductive. But to him, it was simply the voice of another one of his more… _troublesome _daughters, in her pajamas and out in the front yard of their humble home.

He sighed, but managed a worn and gruff smile, "Of course, Coral. Now get back inside before your mother finds out. How did you even get out here?"

"Through the back door," she shrugged before her voice turned pitchy and sarcastic. "And I think it's a bit late for that…" Coral began to walk back towards the log cabin, each step crunching the grass below. But before she fully returned, she called out behind her, "And if he's not out there, make sure to tell us straight."

The girl's voice was now barely above a whisper; she knew it was enough for her father to hear. "…We love him too much to be lied to."

His gaze hardened. He wouldn't dream of doing anything of the sort. Shaking his head, the man turned back – dirty, blonde locks waving in the wind's gentle breeze. The sword at his hip jingled at each step. Battle-worn, old, reliable.

But not as reliable as _that_ one.

Old combat boots thudded against the ground; his strides began to pick up pace – purpose only befitting a man on a mission fuelling each footfall.

Nicholas Arc had answers to find.

And there was one place where he _knew_ he would find them.

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	8. Chapter 8: The Reality of the Situation

**Authors Notes: **

**Mhm… can you taste that in the air? It's the confusion. Tastes pretty good, don't you think? No? Here, just try it. Just a little.**

**Jokes aside, lots of you have queries on why Ruby was made leader.**

**…**

**That's all I have to say.**

**…**

**I kid. Ozpin has reasons for why he does things. Granted, he can sometimes be extremely selective and secretive with said reasons, but is choice of leader really something he'd just throw up in the air and forget about? I'll leave that with you.**

**Oh, and did you all notice how Weiss _actually_ congratulated Ruby on becoming leader? I'm wondering how many of you are reading into that, because it means what you think. And what it means isn't that grandiose. She literally is congratulating her for what she achieved instead of, you know…**

**Coming off the back of the plan concerning this chapter, I didn't actually write up like ¾ of what was on the agenda. I split up the contents so that you guys can get something that we haven't had a lot of in the past 2-3 chapters.**

**_And_**** this was really interesting to write. You might be able to find out why if you just keep on reading on. I hope these parts don't seem too jarring or anything, though. If you _do_ think they are, make sure to explain why and how I could try fix it, thanks!**

**On a side note, have you lot seen V7C3 of RWBY? Man, Jaune having Crocea Mors on his arm making me like: `woah that thing too big`. I was thinking if it made sense to have it on his _fore-_arm and backwards to the way in the show would make it seem dumb in this story. ****In conclusion, I'm chalking it up to the fact that canon Jaune's Crocea Mors is the modified one and this one is still relatively the same to as it was in V1 (if you count the couple of sweet tweaks I made to it) and is therefore _smaller._**

**Side note (2) from Shul of the future: V7C5 has Jaune getting it on with the MILFs! Pyrrha's rolling around in her grave as well as ashes in the wind can.**

**Can you tell I'm trying to make myself feel better?**

**This A/N has been pretty long so, without further ado, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

_Eight Months to the Start of Beacon_

* * *

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming and these damn Mistrali flies didn't want to get out of his hair.

"Tch. What are they doing? Are they trying to lay eggs in there or something?" Jaune cursed as he swatted up and around his face. Aura could do countless things, but protecting him from flies wasn't one of them. Calling out in front of him, the blonde managed to control his frustration and only sound _mildly _pissed, "Tell me again why we're trudging through the forest thick when there's literally a trail half a mile to our left?!"

Not even bothering to turn around, Vul trekked onwards with his hands shoved into his pockets. His voice was surprising nonchalant as he moved with little to no effort through the greenery, "Oh, _waah, waah – _keep crying."

Jaune glowered, eyebrows sharpening as he felt an intense urge to impale his mentor straight through his back.

Before he could contemplate it any further, he continued after a second, "But keep it down, will you? When you're this far from a town – bandits lurk about. And that path you keep wailing on about is the perfect place to watch for any unfortunate traders that just so happen to pass by."

A single hand waved off to the side dismissively, "But, by all means, go ahead and walk on it if you think a little wildlife is going to kill you more than a ragtag gang of thieves."

Giving the flies around him a final growl, and cutting his hand through the air once more, Jaune asked – slightly confused, if anything. "Aren't you a _huntsman? _Isn't it your job to take down people like that?"

"Yeah, well…" Vul paused again, voice trailing along the syllable of the final word.

He was a hard man to get a read on but, being the general outcast he was back in his hometown's middle school, Jaune had loads of chances to just sit back and watch people. To _learn _people. Their habits, their mannerisms, their speech patterns – all of it.

Honestly, it was pretty cool when he first learnt he had this sort of skill. Something of a hidden talent, blossomed to life thanks to his own social ineptitude and awkwardness.

And there went the pride.

In the last few months, Jaune had only picked up on two or three things that his guide did subconsciously or out of habit. One of these few things was the way he liked to hang onto words quietly while he was thinking of what to say.

Was it because Jaune didn't need to know? If so, that brings up _why?_ Was it useless for him to know? Dangerous? Questions like these raced through Jaune's mind as his mentor continued to think along the path of his trailed sound.

"There are people out here that don't know we're around." Vul's voice dimmed to a whisper as he brushed past a light branch. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

Ominous couldn't even describe how that sounded. Jaune decided that it was probably best to leave that where it was – continuing to tail the black-haired huntsman as he cleared a path for them to walk. The silence, filled only with the twittering of the odd bird and the crunch of the matter at their feet, brought the teen to reflect on the past four months.

When he put it like that, it almost seemed unreal.

Four _entire_ months. Four months of _brutal_ and _agonizing_ pain. Really, the amount of things crammed into his brain should have it bursting at the seams. Basic sword and shield play, coupled in with unconventional weapon usage. Ever have a guy just randomly throw the wrong end of his sword at you?

Jaune didn't think so. Jaune didn't even think a sword had a _right_ end when it was being lobbed straight for your face.

There was also hand-to-hand that Vul _finally_ taught him after he was satisfied with his blade work. Jaune was perplexed at first, thinking his progress with Crocea Mors' substitutes – while still progress – didn't really seem up to standard.

Vul explained, _"Kid, you have one year. Twelve months. I'm not going to spend more time on something that I don't need to." _He went on to elaborate, the words sticking with Jaune weeks after they were spoken, _"Playing tricky is playing to win. You want to win? Dodge this punch."_

Suffice to say, Jaune did _not_ dodge that punch and suffered greatly for it at the time.

Though, the alcohol-fuelled words of wisdom held some truth to them. While not great, his skill with the sword and shield was now good enough to take on any old Grimm without much hassle. Combine that with the Aura conduction training that they did simultaneously – Jaune's striking and stopping power increased tremendously.

An Ursa claw coming his way? He could take that on his left arm, braced with both shield and Aura. The head of a Beowolf? You mean the one flying through the air right now?

Well, he wasn't _that_ good, but Jaune thought his point came across pretty well.

He was no longer helpless. He was stronger. Maybe he _could_ become the hero he always wanted to be. _Maybe I won't fail again. _Sapphire eyes locked onto the tattered cape of his mentor – tracking upwards as they bet the back of his greying hair.

Guess there was someone to thank for all of that. He'd have to pry the words from his cold, dead corpse to get it, though.

And while his skill with the blade was, all things considered, pretty good – he had only been training in close-quarters for the better end of a month. Vul taught him all sorts in those few weeks, too. A mixture of boxing, wrestling and an assortment of Mistrali martial arts that Jaune was almost completely sure he made up.

Because there was nobody in Remnant with a shred of dignity that would call his art _`windmill-fu`_. There couldn't have been. And if there was, Jaune would have liked to meet him.

It was surprisingly effective.

"Hey, Vul," Jaune said, calling out in front of him in a respectable volume.

"Hm?"

"You don't know where we're going, do you?"

_Tweet! Tweet! _The birds above them spoke for his mentor – highlighting the absence of words between them as Vul's answer. He hiked onwards, hands in pockets and cape swaying behind him.

"Why do you keep doing this?" The young teen contemplated, eyes wincing in a pitiful expression aimed at the man ahead. Pity aimed at him or himself. One or the other. Both, maybe.

Gods knew if they were about to end up stumbling across another naturalist tribe on accident. Jaune thought their philosophy was interesting, just so long as that philosophy wasn't exposed directly to his eyes. Good on them, but also no at the same time.

He had yet to get the images scrubbed clean from his memory.

"Look," Vul answered, turning around as he held back a branch, making it bend backwards at a precarious angle. "I have a _rough_ understanding of where we are, alright? As long as we keep walking along the same line that path you were talking about – we should be headed right to where we need to be." His hand came off of the branch as it flew forward towards Jaune's face.

Pupils trembling, his eyes widened at the incoming attack. Hissing through his teeth, Jaune shoved his entire body downwards into a squat; blue eyes rocketing to the top of his head to watch the branch whizz by.

Jaune stayed there for a second before making to stand slowly; he almost couldn't believe what just happened. But it happened. And they both saw it. The teen turned his head towards where the branch still slowly rocked back and forth, only to bring his wary gaze back towards his mentor, who looked at him with equal disbelief. Blood-red met sea-blue.

…

With a finger gun, Jaune mustered the smuggest grin he could, "Gonna have to try harder than that." Nailed it. Was it worth the potential thrashing during training later?

Probably.

However, his teacher's crimson-eyes regarded him with something new as they traced around him. They were swirls of pooling scarlet – dim, but catching the light – and Jaune suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of crawling discomfort under his skin.

"Huh." Vul turned again, pushing his hands into the confines of his dress trouser pockets before rustling the leaves under them as he continued to walk.

With the uneasy feeling fading, Jaune's hands crept up to the shoulder strap of his backpack – the same one that held his weapons and various supplies. The teen pulled it further up as he tried to comprehend just how _weird_ that entire interaction was.

His mentor was eccentric, but never was he that… _unsettling._

Said mentor was beginning to disappear into the foliage, and Jaune was not about to be lost in the woods all by himself. The only reason he survived when he first ran away was pure luck; the blond was almost certain he had long run out of the stuff.

Boots kicking back in a jog, Jaune began to catch up – scattered leather pads across his body keeping the majority of his hoodie still in the motion.

He had hoped the village wasn't too far away.

/-/

It was surreal, honestly. Going for months out in the wilderness with little to no human contact to suddenly being in the midst of a mass of moving bodies felt so disorientating. And no, Jaune did not count spending time with Vul has _`human contact`._ That would be a disservice to the incredible evolution both human and faunus kind have gone through over the millennia.

Spending time with Vul was like spending time with next to a train wreck. It was an absolutely horrendous, but you couldn't help but stick around and stare. Maybe learn something along the way from the horrifying mistakes of those before him.

Jaune had both hands wrapped under his backpack straps as his eyes darted from side to side, "Well, we got here like you said… you mind telling me exactly _why_ we're here again?"

"Stop looking so out of place, kid, we're supposed to be laying low – you make it look like you're a cow faunus at a hamburger store."

"_Sorry,_" the teen stressed, wincing slightly as he lowered his hands and reset his expression. "It's just… you know."

Vul scoffed, crimson eyes shifting from one building to another in search of something. "I don't, but it's not like I can't guess. We've been to towns before, like when we went to get you the gear you were lacking." His mentor was obviously referring to when they outfitted him with his leather pads a few months back.

"I mean, that's true, but that was ages ago. The only other villages we ever seem to come across always seem to be in ashes by the time we get there…" Jaune trailed off, reminiscing the sorry sights that were once bustling with activity like the settlement they were currently cruising through. What if that happened to his hometown, Ellis?

Jaune shook the thought out of his head vehemently.

The world didn't revolve around him; he wasn't some sort of action hero from a Spruce Willis film. He was just a shitty teen in a shitty place. Ran away from home to become something he thought he knew everything about – only to almost get himself killed and get kidnapped by a greying drunk with a midlife crisis.

"At least this one's still in one piece." He whispered quietly to himself.

"Don't count your eggs just yet."

"Huh? What do you-?"

"I've heard a few things – got a few contacts. They say that this town's been infested with a problem." Vul cut through Jaune's question with masterful ease. He had no idea if it was for the sole reason of frustrating him, but the blond wouldn't put it past the man.

Nevertheless, Jaune played along – knowing he wouldn't get that answer. There was one he _could_ get, however. "What kind?"

A mere second of silence as Vul continued to phase though the crowd around them. "The terrorist kind."

_Terrorist?_ There was only one organization he could think off; they appeared on the news once or twice and Jaune could vaguely recall their name. "The White Fang?"

The teen was taken by the scruff of his neck, the hand dragging him into a nearby alleyway that smelt like moss, piss and garbage. Jaune groaned, his body being slammed against the brick wall of a nearby building, while he scrunched his eyes to ease the pain.

"Don't just _say_ that." The passing stench of alcohol wafted from the mouth of Vul, dizzying the bot slightly. "I've been teaching you about combat skills; you wanna know a couple of fieldwork skills?"

It sounded like a question so, after a moment, Jaune nodded his head quickly.

"Good. Here's rule number one: when it comes to investigating fucking _terrorists, _you don't just blurt out the names of the groups your trying to investigate. You know what kind of attention that could get you?" His mouth was sealed shut. Vul shook him against the wall again, earning another pained grunt from the teen. "_Do you?_"

He shook his head.

"You get the radicals trying to recruit you. What are you going to say, `oh, yeah, I'd love to`?" Jaune pondered if he should have answered. Luckily, he didn't have to very hard as Vul continued, "Then you get the radicals that pick you out to get answers, thinking you're snooping about. You want to admit you're investigating their suspicious activity? And _then _you get the radicals that'll try beat the shit out of you just for mentioning a group like that. Cover gets blown, just like that."

"…" Jaune had no words, he could only try stand the little ground he had – boots barely touching the damp floor of the dark alleyway.

Another slam. "Get it?"

"Y-yeah, I get it." He was dropped and he almost fell over, not even noticing how weak his legs felt before his mentor's outburst. That was rare; it only ever happened one other time in Jaune's recent memory. When he first said he'd have rather died with the rest than live to fight another day. And _that_ ended with vomit.

Vul was serious about all of this then, that was a given now.

His mentor gave him a stern look with steely, blood-red eyes before swivelling on his foot and returning to meld into the crowd they so easily diffused out of a minute prior. While his torn cape fluttered around the corner, it made Jaune realise how seamlessly his teacher flowed through places like these. He would have thought the man would stumble and bump through carelessly.

Look how wrong he was.

Another deep breath as Jaune released the lingering tremble in his legs. "Alright, Jaune, let's do this."

He jogged out of the alleyway, returning to the side of the older man whose face conveyed no recollection of what he had just did. Jaune payed no attention, twisting his face into a similar shape as he began to survey the air in the same fashion of the huntsman that walked a pace ahead of him.

In many ways, the scenery reminded him of the village him came across just after running away from his family.

Shops and stalls around them looked well-used and half-broken, but each one seemed to have a unique feeling in this community. The yells of product endorsement, the people hauling supplies back and forth and ugly faces twisted into scowls to ward off anybody who had the courage to try and start a conversation. There were also the foreboding alleyways, like the one he was dragged into by Vul.

Yup, really reminding him of the good days.

Azure eyes surfed over a particular building – a couple of brutish looking men bursting out of the front door with rambunctious laughter. Jaune wasn't paying attention to that, though. The sign's paintjob was half rubbed off; the wood it was written on hung loosely from two metal chains. While the footsteps of his master continued, Jaune's head was fixated on the white letters.

He could barely read the writing. _`The Foxhound's Eye-tooth`_

"Vul."

The huntsman took a look over his shoulder, eyes flat. Jaune was still staring at the structure, seemingly a bar if the shouting and cheering from inside was anything to go by. It _was_ in the evening, after all. Vul's look found itself on the same building, following the blond's sight-line.

"Kid, no."

Jaune turned to face the inquisitive eyebrow of the man who denied him of this chance. Vul's hands were still in his pockets and he looked less than keen to entertain his idea. "Come on, Vul, it's a _pub_ – where else could we come across town rumours and stuff if it isn't there?"

Sighing, Vul pinched the bridge of his nose – annoyed. He must have been in a really bad mood because he honestly looked as though he was at the end of his own rope. "This isn't some sort of movie," he reasoned, "we can't just walk into a pub and expect the answers to just fall into our laps. There are some things you have to _work_ for. Someone might even catch wind of us asking about."

His expression dropped, Jaune let his eyes downcast onto a piece on the floor. Yeah, that sounded about right. He really thought he was onto something though. It was this gloomy mood that made the blond lose his senses for a second – but it was enough for someone to get close enough to him without him noticing.

"Whoops-!" Jaune stumbled forward slightly, catching himself before he landed face-first onto the path below. Turning around, he saw a brown-haired man picking something off of the floor. Something that he dropped in the accidental collision between them. "Sorry about that, man, that was my bad." Nothing more was said as he trudged into the bar doors – tail wagging behind him.

Both Jaune and Vul trailed the faunus until he was out of sight.

"On a second thought…" The huntsman span around and began to make his way into the rundown-looking pub. His back turned to Jaune, he spoke anyway, "Maybe it's not _that_ bad of an idea. Could use a refill, anyway."

A phantom of a proud smile crept onto Jaune's features. Eyes shut, he strutted – following the heavy cape that flittered behind the older man. "I _knew_ you couldn't resist a drink."

/-/

Was it racist that they followed a faunus into a bar with an animal-themed name in order to get information for a primarily faunus-based terrorist organization?

Yes. It probably was. But did that make it _wrong?_

…

Yeah. Yeah it probably did. However, Jaune help but feel good about himself despite the questionable stereotypes both he and his teacher placed upon a man who still had the potential to be completely innocent of any knowledge. Speaking of his teacher…

Jaune's eyes floated to the side, seeing Vul look completely in his element. A shot of some golden-brown liquid was hovering inside of a small glass as the man seemed completely disinterested in his surroundings. It didn't look as though he was making a move any time soon – the faunus they came in to investigate taking his sweet time ordering from the menu placed in front of him.

Other patrons around tables cheered and jeered at each other, effing and jeffing like there was no tomorrow. They cat-called the waitress who was taking the attention extremely well, performing her job with professional skill. Jaune could see why, she was mature-looking with brown and wavy hair and her skirt was _way_ too short.

It reminded him of Pearl, for some reason.

Dark-blue orbs gave a last scan of the place. Nothing more out of the ordinary. Nobody even questioned why he was in here; he couldn't even drink. Not that anyone knew that – but it still brought up the point that Jaune didn't _look_ old enough to drink. At least he didn't think so.

The teen didn't know whether to be thankful or concerned for the locals' casual dismissal of underage drinking. Notably, Jaune couldn't see any other faunus apart from the man they came in to keep an eye on and…

Slowly, Jaune swivelled on the stool he was sat on to face forward once again.

The bartender himself.

Unlike the brown-haired faunus sat a few seats down, the bartender's hair was completely grey but had no signs of old age on his face. _Probably just genetics,_ Jaune thought. Furthermore, his attire was more business-like. Talk about stereotypes all you want, but he was a textbook example of how all media seemed to portray a bartender.

White dress shirt, black buttoned waistcoat, midnight bow-tie and cleaning a glass diligently with a cloth – despite it being seemingly spotless already. All of it rounded off with a pair of drooping dog ears on his grey head of hair.

On the other end of the spectrum, the faunus reading the menu was dressed casually – one might even say _raggedly_. A white t-shirt, torn in areas around the arm, and a pair of dark, faded jeans that have seen better days. Not a bit of stubble on his face, though. Jaune thought he looked quite young.

Without much warning, the tailed faunus began to speak, "Hey, 'keep!" The bartender shifted his attention to the man. "Mind if I place an order?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you want?" he responded, placing the glass back into a rack and draping his cloth across a nearby handle.

Jaune flinched slightly as the man next to him swiped the shot of whisky and downed it with relative ease. He also had a shot of alcohol on the countertop, rippling slightly from the force of Vul slamming the glass back down with rough sigh.

While he _did_ drink from his mentor's flask that one night after coming to terms with what happened four months ago, it more so an `in the moment` kind of thing. Jaune didn't regret it at all, but the brown fluid in the glass didn't really hold much appeal to him right now.

The man continued his order, "Could I get the house steak with a pint of beer? Extra foam." Pausing, the brown-haired faunus eyes shifted left and right. Coughing once, he pulled something from his waistline – held by his jeans – and began to slide it over the wooden counter. "And, uh… you heard about the new recipe around town?"

"Well," Vul sighed again. "Looks like that's my cue."

With enough casual indifference to make his sister Coral seem like she cared about the education she dropped out of, the red-eyed huntsman picked up the shot glass and tossed it behind him. It landed with a resounding clutter of crashes, pieces of glass scattering in the bartender's line of sight.

"Hey-!" The bartender tried – and failed – to complete his sentence as Vul sauntered behind the other faunus and placed an arm around his shoulder.

It was quite obvious that he wasn't expecting it; his brown tail spiked upwards at the contact.

His mentor's face leaned in close to their target and, if the little chat he gave to Jaune back outside was anything to go by, the stench of whisky was probably drifting straight into the poor faunus' nose. "Ian, is that you? Man, what are _you_ doing in a place like _this?_"

"D-do I know you?" The sheer confusion and terror in his voice would make Jaune feel _real_ bad if he looked back on this ordeal with the knowledge that this man was actually innocent.

"'Course you do! You don't remember your old pal, _Crow?_"

Jaune closed his eyes and shook his head. His mentor's acting was believable enough, but he couldn't help but feel as though he should be cringing at the sight.

Also _`Crow`?_ What kind of stupid alias was that? Jaune knew Vul both knew `Vul` wasn't even his real name; why didn't he just say that instead?

"I-I don't know any-"

Cutting off the tailed man with without difficulty, Vul dragged him to his feet and flashed a few cards in front of the barkeep. A generous amount, Jaune could tell. "For the drinks, the glass… and a little _extra._"

The grey-haired faunus eyed the lien doggishly – wide-eyed and unbelieving. A second later, his eyebrows narrowed as he nodded quickly, eager to get his hands on some additional cash. Jaune didn't think he was even getting paid minimum wage, even _with_ how he was dressed.

"That's what I like to hear." The huntsman (term used loosely; Jaune just saw him bribe a man by the gods' sake) slapped the plastic cards on the counter and slipped his hand – scraping it lightly on the wood. "Come on, Ian," Vul said cheerfully, "let's catch up _outside…_"

`Ian` looked like he wanted to refuse, but had no chance to as he was hauled up and out of the pub by the other man. A swagger in his step, Vul's cape swung left and right as he flew between tables and patrons alike. Hell, he even winked at the barmaid as he paraded his way out.

People probably forgot he was even there.

Jaune looked to the glass in front of him for a final time. He could smell the contents from here. Shrugging, he wrapped his fingers around the small glass and copied Vul's movement. A sharp burning sensation ate at his throat – the same as it did that night.

With overwhelming self-control, the blonde managed to save face and resist the urge to cough, but the way his face twisted would have made his thoughts on the drink obvious. Shirking off the expression, Jaune readjusted his backpack and turned to the bartender, who was counting the plastic cards he received happily.

But his grey-ish eyes darted across the counter in front of him, as if searching for something that was no longer there. Poor guy. He was probably looking for that white and red mask the other faunus was trying to give him.

Blue eyes shifted towards the exit.

The same one that Vul was casually slipping into his back pocket as he pushed through the front doors to leave.

Jaune attempted to ignore the lingering taste of bitterness hanging from his tongue. He wasn't successful. "And I guess that's _my_ cue," he said, following in his mentor's footsteps – albeit with less grace.

Ignoring the loud shouts of the older men drinking their troubles away, the teen managed to escape the building without much hassle. He was greeted to a darkened night sky, stars shining and street lamps being lit. It seems as though they had spent more time in there than he initially thought.

Vul, however, was nowhere to be seen. Like he was whisked away by the light breeze under the shattered moon. That… was a problem.

_If I was a drunken madman with questionable morals trying to interrogate a potentially guiltless victim, where would I run off to?_

Crossing his arms, Jaune shut his eyes as he let the question provoke his thought. The darkness that came over his vision was calming, soothing and helped him to concentrate on finding the answer. Wait… darkness! He slapped a hand against his forehead. How was it not obvious?

The deep and dark alleyways he had once been pulled into for a secretive chat with his mentor were an obvious go-to for interrogation you wouldn't want any member of the general public seeing. Draping the hand down his face, Jaune once more shuffled the strap of his backpack as he prepared to search every nook and cranny of the shit-stained backstreets of the town.

Not many people seemed to be out right now. Those who were appeared to be heading home for the night, either they didn't have plans or they just wanted a break from the hustle of village life. Hell, there weren't any drunk drifters rocking about trying to find out which bin would be their bed for the night. It was the perfect time to do some ethically ambiguous questioning.

Part of Jaune wondered if Vul did that on purpose. Nah, that would be insane – that guy was good but he didn't seem the type of guy to make the stars align like that on his own accord.

Distant chatter prevented the teen from concluding his train of thought. His boots shifted his weight, jogging through the streets at a brisk pace to get an idea on the origin of the sound.

"I'll ask again _Ian._" No doubt about it, that was Vul. And his voice had a tint of unsung wrath which only added to the intimidation factor of his naturally gravelly voice. "What the hell do you know about the White Fang?"

Jaune came to a halt at the narrow entryway, being met with the lamentable sight of a man in a position he himself was in earlier in the evening. Turning his head around him cautiously, the blond came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be seen dipping into the damp corridor of mossy cobble.

Appearing behind Vul, the huntsman made no movement to show he was surprised he was here. "There's nobody out there," he informed. The greying man was free to do what he wanted and while Jaune felt a _little _bad – he placed his faith in his mentor's judgement.

"Who's this?" Ian spat venomously, "Your little lackey?" He obviously didn't remember the literal run-in they had.

Grunting powerfully, Vul's grip on the man's collar tightened – following it up with a hefty slam on a nearby wall. Jaune winced as he heard something akin to bone breaking as the faunus crashed against the stone behind him.

"Shut the hell up. The only person you need to be concerned about is _me_. You can add yourself to that list if you don't answer my questions." The crimson-eyed man whispered with a brutal tone despite his volume. "Where the hell are the White Fang working from, _Ian?_"

Still recovering from the impact, the brown-haired man managed to open a single eye. "M-my name isn't `Ian`…"

"You going to tell me what it actually is?"

"I'd never tell human _scum_ like you!" His response proved to be the wrong one as Vul shoved him mightily against the brick yet again. "Gah!"

"Then your fucking name is _Ian,_ alright?" _Slam! _"What are the White Fang planning around here, damn it?!"

While intensely menacing, Vul's words didn't seem to be getting him much farther than he already was. "I'd never betray my brothers…"

"Fucking radicals… they keep recruiting them younger, too." His ivory teeth were grit as his brows sharpened. Vul snapped his head towards Jaune, eyes dim but shining with an undiscernible glint. "Kid, get over here." He was confused at first, but his mentor didn't let the feeling last for more than a second or two. "I _said_ get over here."

Exercising caution, the boy did as he was instructed. Each step was slow and wary – however, it was inevitable that he would get to his destination. There were only two steps between them in the first place.

Vul twisted around, changing his grip on the faunus so that one palm was on his shoulder before kicking his legs apart and pushing him to his knees. Jaune had to take a step back so that he wasn't in the way of the practised manoeuvre.

"Hold him in place."

"What-?"

"I _said –_ hold him in place."

With even more hesitance, Jaune placed a hand where Vul showed him – the other twisting his arm behind the man's back to keep him down. He yelped, almost making the teen release his grip in surprise; the firm hand on his teacher prevented that exact thing from happening. Even with it, the action didn't calm the nervous quake in his legs.

"Giving me over to a kid?" Ian managed, sounding like it took all of his energy just to speak. "Big mistake." As Vul waked to stand in front of the downed man, the faunus attempted to break free of Jaune's iron grip – expecting it to be anything but. "What the-?"

Aura. It was a useful tool if you knew how to conduct it well. A month or two of constant Aura training helped to regulate and finely control how and where to direct it and what it could help you do. Things like chopping through Boarbatusk's outer armour or taking a shotgun shell to the face.

Things like holding down a defeated man for his execution.

And while Jaune doubted that was the case here, the feeling persisted in spite of his inner reason.

Ian growled, "It doesn't matter, anyway… you have no proof! Once I get out of here, you'll be finished! Who are the people going to believe – the ruthless huntsman and his brainwashed sidekick or the oppressed faunus they beat up?"

"Proof?" Vul laughed, fishing around his back for something. His weapon? No, he couldn't have been. Then what? "If you wanted _proof, _all you had to do…" His had flicked forward, ringed fingers clasping around the edge of something. "Was ask."

Jaune couldn't hide his confusion; the man he held down seemingly dropped his struggle for a moment. It was the same ornament Vul swiped from the bar, "A mask?" It was white, patterned with red and small slits where the eyes would be. It reminded the blond of a Grimm.

"Where'd you get that?" He barely managed to squeeze out, "I thought I gave it to-"

"_Oh,_" Vul cut him off, stressing the word like he was explaining to a child. "So this belonged to _you,_ then? Huh." The man twisted it back to face him, eyes narrowing as he inspected the surface. "They say a new cell of the White Fang has been creeping about…" Flipping the mask so that he held it between his thumb and the side of his index finger, he gave the other two present a better view of it.

"Now, the White Fang's been wearing masks for a while now… ever since Sienna Khan took over. Suddenly getting labelled as a terrorist organization makes you want to distance yourself… _hide_ yourself – your true self." Crimson eyes pierced through Jaune, even though they were aimed at the faunus on his knees below him. "And I don't really blame you for it. But…" Vul made the `t` click against his teeth balefully.

"There's been a couple of sightings of White Fang members with these _new_ masks," he explained. "White masks with red markings."

Jaune couldn't say he noticed. He never much payed attention to the news on things like terrorists; it just didn't interest him that much. Faunus deserved equality, but he didn't really agree with the directional seemed the organization was heading.

"What's your point?" The faunus spat once more, regaining the strength to attempt to shake off Jaune's grip – to no avail, of course.

"My point _is, _these members in particular have been reported to be more violent. More unpredictable. Random." Vul took a step closer, the sound of leather meeting stone echoing in the tapered corridor. "Sienna organizes raids on SDC facilities – mines and plants. Understandable, in a way. She would want to throw a wrench into, what she sees to be, the lead oppressor of her kind." Another step. Vul was right in front of the faunus, leaning down so that the two were face to face once more.

"But people like _you_ have been attacking frontier villages – towns…" Jaune swallowed, thick saliva struggling to go down his throat. "_Innocents._ All for seemingly no good reason. Interestingly enough, you've also been trying to cover them up as Grimm invasions."

Vul leant back, looking down onto the faunus. Ian himself was audible hissing through his teeth. "What are you getting at?"

"What's with all the questions? Have you forgotten? _I'm _the one in control here," his mentor said with never before seen rancour and ruthlessness. Jaune had never seen the man like _this_ before.

For the past four months, it was just them two on the road. Training, getting into unbelievable situations that Jaune would have thought impossible and the odd outburst of emotion (mostly from himself). But, throughout all that, Vul was…

A general douchebag and extremely condescending.

…

But never so frightening.

The huntsman would insult, jeer, laugh, instruct. But he never did seem to threaten, intimidate and expose. Vul would normally look as though he could barely hold himself together. But here, it seemed like he was about to tear of this man's head to search for the answers he wanted. And Jaune knew full well that he could do that if he so wanted.

This whole expedition, he's been on edge. For the few days that they travelled to get here, he would insist on being on watch all night – not getting a single wink of sleep while Jaune rested for hours. And he didn't think it was because his mentor suddenly had a change of heart. They marched and marched, to the point where Jaune said he could feel the muscles in his legs tearing.

A quick check from Vul revealed that they were, in fact, ripping apart. Vul's pace was too intense for him to keep up with, while the man himself seemed to be fine. The madman even said he would carry him the rest of the way – but Jaune adamantly refused, fearing he wouldn't be able to live it down for the rest of his life.

In the end, they spent half of the day resting as the teen used his focused his Aura flow to repair his damaged tissue. It wasn't all bad, Vul caught up on some sleep as Jaune was on watch best as he could with unusable legs.

To Vul's credit, the faunus considered something before he snapped his neck upwards to meet the crimson gaze of his aggressor, "I'm not telling you anything."

Humming nonchalantly, Vul started to turn around, stuffing the mask back into his pants. Only to explode back with force as he forced his first straight through the faunus' face. Spittle flew through the air – Jaune's grip on the man unable to hold firm, the punch launched the man they called Ian to the side and against the wall he was against earlier.

Jaune stood still in shock, unable to tell what just happened. He couldn't even tell if the red splattering across his vision was from Vul's cape. Because Jaune didn't think it was.

Ian grunted in pain, trying to pick himself up but failing to, instead succeeding in vomiting up a pool of murky scarlet. Jaune wasn't sure if he could even tell Vul the answers he wanted to know at this point, but the thought proved incorrect as he babbled, "F-fuck…"

Fuck was an accurate way of describing how the boy felt about this whole thing. Weakly, his arm outstretched halfway to the man who taught him everything, "Vul, what are you-?"

Vul brushed past him, sparing him a side-glance graciously and bore witness to his apprentice's face. Pupils trembling amidst the sea of wary sapphire and a mouth open – as if wanting to say more, but his heart couldn't bring the words out.

Grabbed by the scuff of his shirt collar yet again, Ian was propped up only by the fabric with no other support as he dangled feebly. Streams of blood were running down the sides of his lips and dripping uselessly onto the stone below. Grey below was tinted in red.

He winced and groaned, but Vul pressed on, "Tell me who's running all of it! Tell me!" Incomprehensible babbling, all of it building up to the faunus spitting on the huntsman's face – just under the eye – as he hacked and coughed up whatever he had left.

Just like that, everything became silent. It was daunting how Vul took the action – no sign of flinching or rising anger past the levels he had already shown. With a single hand, he kept the man suspended in the air as he wiped away the saliva with the back of his opposite forearm.

Red eyes darted to Jaune, causing him to subconsciously pull back. "Kid," he started, making the teen dread whatever he could have said next. "Break his arm."

The dread was well placed as Jaune suddenly found fragments of courage floating around his ego to fight back, "No."

No sign of annoyance, no sign of irritation, no sign of surprise; Vul only gave him an impartial stare as he questioned. "What, you can't? I taught you how to weeks back. Break his arm."

"No as in I _won't,_ Vul!" Now that got a reaction. A raised eyebrow was all it was, but considering the stone-faced demeanour he was putting on for the past few minutes – it was enough for Jaune. "I'm not going to harm him; don't you think you've done enough? Look at him, he can barely even talk!" His voice cracked as he shouted with passion, no care for who would hear him.

But he knew that nobody was coming, he made sure of that himself before involving himself.

Vul scoffed silently, his soul-stabbing eyes redirecting onto the faunus he gripped, "No, this isn't enough. It'll _be_ enough once he tells me what I want to know. Don't you know that this cell of the White Fang is probably planning an attack at this very moment? It could be on _this very village_. Everything would go up in flames." The next words came silently, like phantoms in the cold darkness under the broken pieces of the moon. "I thought you didn't want that to happen again…"

Red eyes widened by a fraction of a centimetre. "Do you?"

Jaune's face fell, every expression of defiance ripped from his features as he struggled to perceive what was even in front of him anymore. Fire, blood, anguish, destruction, death, Grimm – everything tearing away the happiness from him, from _everyone._

Lyn's tattered sweater, bloodied and dirty. Pearl's begging face, eyes flooded with tears containing the faith he placed in Jaune – a boy she had only just met.

It was enough.

Vul was right. He didn't want that to happen again. Jaune didn't want that to happen to anyone ever again. Emotion drained from his face, sapphire eyes in a haze as the hesitance in his steps vanished into the same place his morals lie. _This is fine,_ Jaune told himself. _I'm helping people. I'm stopping innocents from losing everything to these monsters._

That is, if everything Vul was saying was true. Of course, there was a chance he was lying; there was a chance for everything. But the blond knew he had no reason to – that man was a huntsman working to protect Remnant. Vul knew what he was doing. But did Jaune?

Yes. No. He wanted to think so.

His gloves gripped one of the faunus' arms – he didn't even have the strength to move his tail as it dangled limply from behind him. One dragged down, wrapping around the wrist, while the heel of his other palm was against the man's elbow. "H-hey…" he spoke weakly, "You aren't actually going to…" His brown eyes widened as much as they could – head turning to meet the teen.

Jaune was crying. "Just tell him what he wants to know…" he begged – voice wavering. "I don't _want _to do this." Streams of crimson around the faunus' mouth dulled to the bright falling of tears around the teen's eyes. But despite his words, his hands were like steel vices on the poor man's arm. He didn't even have Aura.

Grimacing, he gave his final answer, "I-I can't."

A ghost of a white radiance flashed for half of a second around Jaune's hands.

_Crrraashhk!_ The brittle bone within stood no chance against the Aura enhanced might of the teenager's strength.

"GAHAAAH!" He jolted his head forward in pain, more spittle was sent flying forward as he foamed at the mouth. "Gah! Guh… erk!" His screams and shouts rang in Jaune's ear and made his brain rattle – forcing him to take a step back.

It was just so… _easy_. Why was it so easy? He looked at his hands for the answer, thinking he could find them there.

The faunus' arm was bent at an unnatural angle, contorted as the elbow conformed inwards in a way it wasn't supposed to. While the bone didn't piece the man's skin, it was undeniable that his arm completely shattered thanks to Jaune.

Unfazed, Vul shook him with no remorse, "You ready to tell us yet?" Silence, if you excluded the pained gasps of the poor guy in his grasp. "No? Break the other one."

Jaune didn't want to. Luckily, he didn't have to. "W-wait! I'll talk!" After his outburst, the faunus gasped for air, almost as if he expelled everything out of his lungs at the end of his breath. "Please… just stop…"

A smirk graced Vul's features, to Jaune's surprise. "Now that's what I like to here. Answer my questions and you get to live – hell, we'll even treat that arm of yours." And, even in the face of Ian's compliancy, the huntsman still gave him a solid shake. "First question, who's running this circus?"

"A-Adam," he squeaked between gasps for air, "Adam Taurus… he's one of Sienna' right hands. T-that's all I know, I swear!"

"Adam Taurus…" Vul's head tilted to the side as he muttered, "I'll have to run that through." Snapping his attention back violently. Not as violent as he made Jaune to be, though. "Where are you operating from? What do plan on doing?"

Each shout had an explosive kickback, having Ian recoil as far as he could within the clutches of the bigger man. He conceded like he said he would, "The main camp is just a few klicks northeast from here… this village was too close; we couldn't risk getting found out!"

"So what? You were just going to raze the entire place to the ground?"

"That was his plan… the bartender, the mask – it was a message. I'm just a messenger!" Jaune felt a spike in the atmosphere, head shooting upwards to look at the faunus, who smiled a bloody grin – white teeth stained and patterned like the mask he claimed to own. "You're too late anyway, you human bastards! Adam's going to lead us all to victory and there's nothing you can do to stop him!"

As if on cue, a soul-rocking vibration shook both of the people still standing. Jaune rocked back and forth, attempting to regain balance and only succeeding by pushing himself against one of the near walls. Vul was shocked, but nothing more as he looked behind him – still gripping at the faunus' collar.

Looking in the same direction, Jaune's eyes quivered at the sheer sight. Just from their narrowed peripheral, a huge cloud of smoky orange was raised high in the sky – lighting up the night with its hue. He continued to watch in horrified awe while the huntsman turned back to the faunus, rage blasting through his stony mask.

"What the hell was that?! What's going on?" Vul roared.

"You can't stop it…" He whispered manically, energy from who knows where resurging through him. "No matter what you plan on doing, this entire place is going to be wiped out! Adam is the one who will finally rescue faunuskind from the depths _you_ _humans_ pushed us in! He'll be the one-!"

Another explosion, but in the form of a right fist to the jaw, as Vul hammered his knuckles into the side of the unexpecting man's mouth. Dark red flickered at his fists for a brief second, but Jaune could tell that this time it wasn't blood. _It was just so easy._

"Fucking extremist bastards…" He cursed. Vul turned to Jaune, who in turn managed to tear his gaze back to the pools of crimson within his mentor's eyes. "Kid-" For everything he's done, it was surprising to see the man hesitate, but he paused in his speech before he continued with vigor and charisma you wouldn't normally see out of him. "We need to get out there and find out what's going on."

Jaune's eyes widened, unbelieving in what the huntsman was insinuating, "You mean you want me to-"

"Yes." No hesitation, causing Jaune to flinch back at the intensity within the single word. Vul's head darted back and drew his weapon; shifting into a greatsword, he lugged it over his shoulder and whirled back, letting his cape fly over Jaune's vision.

This was insane. Did he just expect Jaune to go out there, what was he even supposed to do? His voice was tinged in uncertainty and fear, "Then why don't we go together?" Jaune reasoned.

Vul considered it, before dropping his head and turning his back fully on Jaune. "…No."

"What-? Are you-? _Why?_" There was no hiding how terrified he was. Even with everything he had been through in the months, this could have been actually ended in his death. An actual terrorist attack? And this time Jaune was stuck in the middle of it – being told to charge into no-man's land.

"We need to cover more ground and find out what exactly going on." Jaune could tell that wasn't the real reason. It wasn't very hard to, but it wasn't like Vul was trying anyway. Lowering his voice, the crimson-eyed huntsman mumbled under his breath, "It's probably best you don't stay near me right now – for your own good."

Screams – panicked and wild – reverberated from the streets across the exit of the alleyway. Were they in trouble? Were they dying? Was it Grimm, or was it-

"…What if I die?"

The question just came out. He didn't mean it to. Jaune was supposed to be strong now. Vul turned halfway once again, his own glare widening at the pitiful sight of a boy – way out of his depth and shaking like a leaf.

"You won't."

Those two words were all he said before he dashed out of the strait, damp alleyway in a flash of worn red and silver.

Just like that, the world seemed to twist and turn – senses returning in a confusing blend of emotions, sights, smells and sounds. Bursting out into a fit of wheezes, Jaune realized he had been holding his breath for gods know how long. Collapsing to his knees, the boy grasped at his chest as beads of sweat fell from his brow and splashing feebly below.

Breathe in, breathe out. It was so hard now. He had to get a grasp on himself. He had to stop something terrible from happening again. He had the chance to. All he had to do was-

_"Why didn't you save me, Jaune?"_ The voice came out of nowhere, but it came from beside him.

His breathing stopped, recognizing the tone of voice – even _if_ it was marked differently, in a way. Neck groaning to the side, he didn't want to see what he was expecting to see. Thankfully, he _didn't, _laying eyes on the unconscious body of the faunus Vul had brutalized. But the voice remained.

"_Why didn't you save me?"_

Fearing to even say it, Jaune spoke what he already knew, "Lyn?"

_"Why didn't you save me, Jaune? I trusted you."_ It came from the body of the faunus. How was that even possible? Jaune began to crawl weakly towards the fallen figure – the origin of the sound.

As he slowly put one arm in front of the other, Jaune faltered – his arm unable to get a stable hold making him fall onto his forearm. One arm became two and the teen was flat on the ground Wrestling with himself to get closer, Jaune was now essentially dragging himself across the wet floor to get closer to the body.

"I tried…" Jaune pleaded, hidden emotion that he buried over the months resurfacing and escaping from him. "I tried so hard, but- but I'm stronger now! I promise!" A hand extended itself to the shoulder of the lying body, barely glancing over the shoulder until the corpse erupted backwards to face hopeless boy.

And, like that, Jaune regretted doing so.

A face, mangled beyond belief, stared him down with empty eye-sockets. Like black holes, they seemed to suck in his attention and replace it with the everlasting impression of fear as the skin began to melt and the red and pink flesh beneath began to show. The features were falling to the ground in an agonizing and horrifying display of skin-toned colours, having Jaune reel back – staggered in shock.

The amalgamation didn't let him. Its arms burst forward and wrapped itself onto Jaune's shoulders, pulling him closer as weakness overcame the teen. _"Why didn't you save me?" _It _asked._ It _repeated._ _"Why didn't you save me Jaune, I waited and waited. You failed me."_

A voice that didn't belong to the face, begging and begging while the mixture of sounds began to distort deeper and deeper. The trickling seepage of flesh began to remold itself into a face that _did_ belong. "Why?" It asked, eyes pricking with tears.

"Please… please! I wanted to so badly – I tried so hard! Lyn, please…" Jaune was losing himself. He had already started crying long before he got so close – the tears mixing with the sweat. It was impossible to tell what was what.

Her brown hair glossed over her beautiful eyes as she tilted her head.

…

Black scribbles, dark as coal, wrote over her face. Eyes were slashed out and bleeding and her mouth was upended and ripped along her cheek as the slices of black completed their deformation in the blink of an eye.

"_NOT HARD ENOUGH._"

* * *

Shooting upright, Jaune Arc began to pant heavily – sweat running down his face like a waterfall. He slapped a hand against his face, feeling the calluses wipe away the wetness on his forehead. The sheets on his bed were dangerously warm and Jaune himself was boiling underneath his clothing.

He had half a mind to remove it, but stopped himself – wary of the consequences surrounding doing so in a room filled with teenage girls. Jaune settled for removing the covers and tugging at the collar of his black shirt to let the air pass through and around his body. It was too dark to see, but Jaune felt like that helped to soothe him anyway.

It was a nightmare. Of course it was. That never happened on that day. Lyn wasn't there. But it _did_ happen. Jaune shook his head lightly, eyes shut. It was also something he didn't want to remember right now. _It's in the past,_ he told himself. _Let it go, Jaune._

Rolling the covers into a tightly wound tube of cloth, the blond tucked it just below his bed – making sure not to hit his head on the bunk above him as he managed to pull himself back in. That was something he was too tired to even address at this moment in time.

Breathing in deeply, Jaune exhaled slowly to calm himself. It was a dream. No need to get so worked. Tomorrow was the first day, after all. His first day at Beacon Academy. That made him feel better. He internally scoffed.

"Stop lying to yourself, Jaune," he whispered – voice guilty and blond locks shaking.

Managing to lie back down onto his pillow, Jaune twisted and turned to get into a comfortable position. He prayed that when he was once more embraced by the cold clutches of slumber, he wouldn't have been subjected to that false reality yet again.

The gods weren't that cruel, were they?

Yeah, right.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Hohoho… that happened. That definitely happened. **

**I want to expand on the broader ideas that I had initially planned for the story. So far, this Jaune has been relatively similar to canon Jaune in most actions and behaviors – excluding his fighting skill. What is Jaune really like as a person? What did he go through in that year? **

**You can't expect it to be all sunshine in rainbows with a man like Qrow, can you? Nah, not a chance in hell.**

**I'll let you lot come to your own conclusions surrounding that, hopefully this E/N can provoke your thoughts a little. There were a couple of other subtler nods within the chapter too, in regards to future plot points – once again, that's all I'm saying on that front.**

**This kind of writing is just so interesting though. I hope that I managed to convey the emotions correctly, since I wanted the scene to be powerful and disorientating at the same time. The only other time I wrote a shadow of something like this was in the very first chapter itself.**

**We'll see if the chance to write like this ever comes up again, though.**

**Next time on Under the Wing, we'll get back into the present and open it up to see what's in store for our _hero_, Jaune. Heh… **

**End it all.**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	9. Chapter 9: Getting All Tied Up

**Author's Notes:**

**This is awkward. Hi, guys – yes, it's me, your eyes do not deceive you. This is in fact an A/N written by the author of Under the Wing. Kept you waiting, huh? Of course, there were reasons for this but excuses be damned; I managed to write up two chapters in advance so I'm posting this one. **

**Last chapter we saw Qrow for the entire thing. I could have made a few more allusions clearer but where's the fun in that? We get back to Jaune's daily life at Beacon and we should be moving through the storyline – albeit with a few alterations that I have mapped out later on.**

**I'm looking back on my style of writing, and I'm noticing that it's quite descriptive most of the time. Sometimes, I feel as though it may get in the way of the dialogue, but I'm interested in seeing how you lot feel about it – seeing as you're the ones reading it. Is it extra? Does it pad out the story or leave its pacing in the gutter? **

**You tell me.**

**Anyhow, let's get into the chapter.**

* * *

Light entered the slight gap between his eyelids, causing them to flutter.

Blinking once, twice, three times – Jaune put the back of his hand onto his forehead and allowed the early morning atmosphere to drag him out of his beautiful, peaceful, ignorant rest. Being conditioned to wake up so early was a pain sometimes, but a necessary one. Every hour counted. Every minute mattered. Every second costed a life.

With a soft breath, the drowsy teen sighed as he removed his hands from his face and brought them to the side of his bed. He could already feel the tiredness slipping, but Jaune also knew that the irritability of the sheer fact it was so early would_ not_.

The teen allowed himself to stand from his bed, the barest of audible noise making itself known. It was still pretty early morning – around six, if Jaune's internal clock was anything to be trusted – and it wouldn't do to wake up an entire room filled with girls. As the blond bent down to pick off the duvet that he rolled underneath his bedframe, the time it took him to make his bed permitted him some idle thinking.

Could he talk about that really quick? He was sharing a dormitory room with _three_ girls. This was crazy. Beacon was crazy. That Professor Ozpin was crazy. Was Jaune crazy for thinking so? At this point, it wouldn't surprise him if the answer was yes. Maybe, against all odds, this was completely normal and he was reading way too far into it.

Yeah, right. At times, Jaune could have _sometimes_ been seen as naïve, but this was anything _but_ normal. Again, maybe normal for Beacon standards – but who was to say that Beacon standards equated to the standards of the outside world? Smoothing out the last crinkle of his cover, Jaune laughed at the obvious answer.

Beacon was different to the outside world. Very much so.

Jaune pulled himself from beneath the roof of Blake's bunkbed above his own – having finished with his work. Scratching his blond locks slightly, the teen backed away from last night's resting place. Right, bunkbeds, that happened.

Hands finding their way into his hips, blue eyes admired the newly-named Team RASB's very own dorm room. Near his and Blake's side of the room… well, there were a lot of books. Jaune's head inclined behind him, letting his gaze wander the multitude of shelves and study desks piled with literature.

Lots of books, indeed.

There were so many damn books, their own bunkbed was supported by the weight of a couple dozen at the top of each leg. Jaune would have normally been terrified at the concept of sleeping under something that looked so unstable, however, those books were _unnaturally_ sturdy.

He gave the thick hardbacks a solid shake, letting the motion go completely unnoticed by the numerous texts stacked onto one another. It was almost like the paper and wood had fused together in a mystical and unnerving reuniting of material – processed paper returning to its more natural form with the wooden bedframe.

Honestly, Jaune would gladly admit that a Goliath would fly before that gave way to any sort of weight.

A quick glance to Ruby and Weiss' part of the room revealed that they had also decorated their side with a variety of personal items. Weiss hung up one or two artistic pieces, while Ruby had her bed draped with a cloth – covering the many plushies of stuffed animals she brought with her.

Personal items, huh?

Dragging his gaze to his bedside, Jaune walked over and laid hands on the only personal item he had with him in their room. Crocea Mors. Picking the sheathed blade up with both hands, he held it horizontally and slowly ran a lazy hand across the shining steel – admiring it. _Even when asleep, you still love to show off, don't you?_

Jaune shook his head with an amused chuckle, letting his right hand hold Crocea Mors at his side while he made his way into the bathroom. Talking to _weapons,_ who did he think he was? It's not like had ever talked back before… unless that time was his imagination, of course. But Crocea Mors, no matter how beautiful a blade, was still just a regular, old object. Right?

Water was run over his groggy face, letting it wash away the thought. A quick glance at the reflective surface as he closed the top revealed his face – obviously – drenched, a few bangs of his hair heavier with the clear liquid. Jaune's eyes were a deep sapphire, hazed slightly, and without an obvious glint to their colour.

So they were the same. Reaching over to the rail next to the sink, the blond ran the towel against his face roughly and, smoothing out his hair the best he could, exited the bathroom with no more hassle – picking up Crocea Mors along the way.

Was it weird that he brought his sword into the bathroom with him? No, he didn't really think so. In front of his specific wardrobe, Jaune shrugged away the notion, reminiscing everything that he went through in the months he got to properly use the Arc legacy blade as he rummaged through the unimpressive assortment of clothes he had piled inside.

Within the closet, a folded pile of clothes lay under a singular glimmering earring in the shape of a crooked cross put neatly on tip.

"There you are…" Jaune whispered quietly to himself, the words coming out barely above his breath.

Grabbing the earring and wrapping a hand around his trusty hoodie, Jaune's head turned behind him to see the others still fast asleep. A silent breath of relief as the free hand laid Crocea Mors against the wood of the wardrobe and grabbing at the hem of his Pumpkin Pete's T-shirt and took it off in a quick motion.

The blond shivered at the newfound sensation of cold air against his skin, he slipped on the hoodie – letting its warm embrace soothe him. Soon after, Jaune fastened the metal accessory onto his earlobe to seal the deal.

Yes, he kept a different T-shirt inside of his hoodie. No, it wasn't weird. Again, you would understand if you were in his shoes. Though, in all fairness, the reasons why he was so picky with how he wore his hoodie were mostly just personal preference.

Still didn't detract from the fact it was important to him. Some people had standards.

Another quick look behind him before Jaune slid into his combat trousers, trying his hardest not to make any noise and be caught in a potentially volatile situation with any of the people he shared a room with. Gods forbid what could have happened if they caught him with his pants down.

Literally.

Jaune folded his clothes, making a mental note to find where he should dump his laundry and placed them into the wooden contraption before creeping out of the door and shutting it with a quiet _click_ and _beep_ of the electronic lock. He breathed out, exasperated and finally safe, despite being a quarter of an hour into his real first day into Beacon.

"If it's going to be like that every morning, I have no idea if I'm going to be able to keep going…"

The exhausted teen took a gaze down the long hallway resting outside RASB's dorm room. Interestingly enough, it also rested just outside Team PYRN's dorm room too; the door to their literally opposite theirs. A literal _dragon_ lying in rest just outside his new home away from home away from home.

Jaune secretly hoped she forgot about what happened yesterday… what with the whole throwing her into a Deathstalker thing.

Speaking of yesterday, he really had to thank Nora for the surprise she pulled on everyone. Following their subsequent victories, the group of teens came to the eventual realisation that the only pair to actually retrieve a relic were him and Blake. Bullheads came to pick up the teens, making them unable to go back to the ruins to look for relics that may or may not have even been there.

On the flight back to Beacon, Ruby exploded out of nowhere – jumping from her seat, _"Guys! Me and Weiss didn't get a relic!"_

The girl's partner seemed disinterested for a moment. _"Weiss and I,"_ she corrected absentmindedly a second before her eyes widened like plates. Her head shot up and slowly scanned her gaze left and right, _"…Me and Ruby don't have a relic." _

_"Now that you mention it," _Yang added from the bench opposite to him, _"Neither did me and Pyrrha…" _She uncrossed her arms as an expression of light fear blew across her face.

Pyrrha's voice sounded like a cat trying to die in the most elegant way possible, _"Does this mean we fail Initiation? After everything we went through?"_

With great effort, Jaune shot a look to Blake, who shut her eyes and shook her head lightly in response – as if to say she wasn't sure. Or that it was probably best not to address it. At that, the group of hopeful teens let the demoralising silence fill the gap of sound; most of their heads dropping to think about the future.

Though, there was _one_ person in particular who didn't seem so downtrodden about the whole ordeal. She was vibrating viciously, like a wind-up toy that was raring to go. It took the calming hand of Ren to communicate to her.

_"Nora," _he said softly,_ "why don't you just tell them all now?"_

_"Because then it wouldn't be a surprise, Ren! Duh!" _At her words, the six other teens turned to look at the duo with a mix of inquisitive, curious and suspicious gazes.

_"Well, it seems as though it isn't going to be a surprise for much longer." _Ren's gaze met each of the others with an apologetic smile, the hand on Nora's shoulder shaking her softly as he spoke, _"My apologies, everyone, it seems as though Nora has something to tell you all."_

It seemed as though the only one brave enough to ask was Ruby, her voice both hopeful and confident at the same time, _"Well, what is it, Nora?"_

Digging around her skirt-pocket, the ginger-haired girl took center stage as she presented two chess pieces – yellow or white in colour. With vigour, she held them high for all to see; a yellow rook and a white knight. _"Ta-dahhh!"_

The only other blonde in the bullhead eyed them in awe,_ "Are those-"_

_"-The relics?" _Pyrrha finished off her partner's line of thought.

_"Uh-huh," _Nora confirmed, moving one to each hand,_ "I got a cute-looking horsey and another castle for me to rule over. Or at least one that I would have ruled over if somebody didn't tell me that I had to share." _She glared intensely at the rose-eyed boy who took the brunt of her stare with little to no effect.

_"That would be against the rules, Nora," _he reasoned.

Pouting, the only stood girl in the airborne bullhead mumbled, _"Since when did queens have to share?"_

Weiss managed to point out amidst the general shock of the other members of their ragtag group of teens, _"Isn't taking more than one relic against the rules anyway?"_

_"Well," _Yang stood as well, giving Weiss a grin as she made her way in front of Nora, _"I, for one, don't remember Professor Ozpin telling us anything about that." _She swiped a hand to grab one of the relics, only for it to be taken out of her reach with a resounding _`yoink`_ from Nora. Trying again and again, the blonde failed again and again, looking to the giggling ginger with confusion dancing across her face, _"Uh…"_

_"Come on, Yang, you can't just take one!"_

_"…Why not?" _The larger girl questioned, one hand coming up to her scalp to itch something.

Nora closed her fists and moved them behind her back, over-exaggerating the movement of her arms as she began to swap their positions. _"Because then it wouldn't be fun!"_

Lilac eyes drifted to Ren, who was looking at the predicament with general indifference. _"Is she always like this?"_

Ren's eyes came to a close as he let a tired sigh escape from his lips, _"You come to get used to it."_

Once again, Nora held out her two hands – but each one was now balled into a fist to conceal what relic they held within her pink-gloved fingers. _"There!" _Reaching out once more, Yang was denied the chance to choose one. Red flashed across her eyes for split-second before Nora scolded, _"So pushy. Just because of that, I'm going to let someone else choose first. Oh, Jauney~!"_

Jaune, now in sight of the heat-seeking Nora, refused to address her verbally, instead inching his body as far away as he could from the approaching girl. Nora, thankfully, took the hint – going so far as to ask, _"Huh? What's wrong, Jaune? Ursa got your tongue?" _Less thankfully, Nora didn't stop her approach, her presence in front of the blond imminent.

In response, Jaune shook his head rapidly and immediately regretting the action as his head began to spin. Blake decided to take the wheel, not taking notice of her partner's plight. _"Actually, Nora," _she informed, _"we already have our relic."_

An 'O' shape formed around the ginger's lips as she morphed it back into a smile with a nod, _"Oh… well, that means there's enough for all of us, then! Ain't that right, Jaune?" _Nora nudged the boy with her elbow, somehow squeezing in-between himself and Blake to do so.

Somewhere behind the hyperactive girl, Ruby scratched her head as she whispered behind her hand to Weiss, _"Was she just going to let one of the teams fail, then?"_

That did it. There was no holding back. The nudge pushed him over the edge. Gods forgive him; they cannot say that he didn't try. _"Uh, Jaune? You're looking a little green there, guy," _Nora noted before the inevitable storm came.

A storm of vomit.

It came out like a waterfall. A waterfall of green and yellow. Though, having not eaten much for a few hours – maybe it would smell better? Jaune didn't really know, for all he knew it could smell ten times worse; everything spewing out of his mouth could have been pure acid and bile. A jet stream splashed against Nora's outfit – it being the prime target for his deadly assault.

Looking back on it, it definitely wasn't the time for jokes. The bullhead struggled to keep a steady course as Nora's screams rocked the very core of everyone man's soul in a dozen mile radius.

Snapping himself out of the slight daydream, Jaune equally hoped that Nora forgot about everything that happened yesterday. With the whole… _vomit_ thing. Then again, it was Nora. She may as well have forgotten everything that transpired before going to bed in the evening.

In any case, Jaune thought that he had better stop thinking about the past and start acting in the present, or he feared he might have gone on a mental tangent.

Croce Mors tucked into the regular belt around his trousers – due to the lack of magnetic arm bracers, Jaune realised he was well on his way down the long halls of the dormitory. Did he daydream? It didn't matter that much, he thought. At least now, had time to appreciate the art and décor draped along the walls.

Beautiful landscapes of the mountainous regions of Vale that Jaune dreaded the thought of going near. Artistic depictions of Forever Fall – obviously, the people who made that didn't know how much of a hellhole that place actually was – and even a painting of the City in the Clouds, Atlas. Wasn't this supposed to be full of stuff from _their_ kingdom?

He didn't get to think too much of it before he came across a noticeably bright corridor, much more so than the one he was currently walking.

Light began to flood his vision. Natural light from the morning sun. Jaune noticed it, shielding his eyes slightly as he turned to look outside. And what a grand sight it was. Even further down the hallway, the sides were implanted with window after window – letting the scenery of Beacon's courtyard and the distant silhouette of Vale proper fill its glassy frame. In and of itself, the view would have been enough, but the rising sun really did add to the glorious terrain.

Jaune stopped walking, fully turning to face out of the window closest to him and took a single step forward to get a better look. The grass of Beacon's courtyard looked welcoming, stable and comfortable – the perfect place to take Crocea Mors for a few swings. Maybe go for a quick jog.

It took a second of contemplation, but the teen eventually came to a light scoff – pushing himself away from the transparent barrier.

Training? This early in the morning? Hah. What kind of cliché was that? Jaune was thanking the high heavens that there was no hungover instructor barking commands at him at five in the morning. He could afford to take a break every once in a while. That's what he was hoping at least.

"Ah, Mister Arc. Enjoying the view, I presume?" The new voice cut through the air with unnatural ease, Jaune's head being drawn towards the origin almost magnetically. Making to speak, move – or really – do _anything_ other than just stand there, the teen failed all of his own expectations, much to the other man's amusement. "Do not fret, Mister Arc. I may come off as imposing to some, but I can promise you that I don't bite."

"R-right. Sorry. Sir." Jaune really was making himself seem like a mess, wasn't he? In front of such a figure, no less. He had to calm down, and fast.

It was none other than the headmaster of Beacon Academy stood facing him, Professor Ozpin. And, like last time, the feeling of his Aura washed over Jaune subconsciously with no other distractions to take away the undeniable presence in the air. Attempting to make himself seem more presentable, Jaune pivoted on his heel and stood up straight, arms by his side – stiff and rigid.

Chucking, Ozpin tapped his cane on the wooden floor, smiling good-naturedly, "Come now, no need for such formality. I'm hardly a military officer, Mister Arc – I do not expect to tell my students to be at ease when in my presence."

Jaune widened his eyes, body tensing before forcing every muscle in his body to relax. Interestingly enough, doing so was held much more difficulty than when he was straining himself seconds prior. "Right, sorry… Headmaster? Ozpin. Professor Ozpin? I'll stop."

Taking his student's bumbling in stride, Ozpin nodded, tapping his cane once more as he turned to look outside the window nearest to him. "Hmm, yes, perhaps that would be for the best. But it is quite a sight, no? A grand city that houses millions that depend on us – the future generation of huntsmen and huntresses – to keep them safe." A void of silence. "A noble duty, to be sure."

Another glance to the window once more revealed to Jaune the silhouette of Vale proper in the distance, way past the school's harbor and surrounded by rolling hills with giant mountains looming from afar. It was a sight, no doubt about it. But Ozpin sure knew how to lay it on thick.

Millions and millions counting on him. Responsible for so many people? A duty… "Yeah, a noble duty."

Unnoticed by Jaune, Ozpin gave a side-glance to the boy; his hazel eyes conveyed nothing more than a simple observation. He hummed, "Enough about that, then. How are you finding your teams? I think that you'll share my view in thinking this year definitely has its characters."

Glad for the topic change, Jaune felt a semblance of relaxation come over him. Laughing nervously, he tried to keep his hands still as he answered – not wanting to rub the back of his head. "`Characters` is definitely one way to describe them… but, yeah. I think I'm happy with my team. Ruby's definitely fun to be around, and I like to think that Weiss is warming up to me."

"I'm glad to hear it. However," Ozpin tilted his head, and Jaune only just noticed he was once again holding that mug he was almost never seen without. Raising an eyebrow, he spoke softly, "I can't help but point out that it seems as though you forgot about another member of your team. Namely, your own partner?"

And again, his body tensed and Jaune cursed. It was a subconscious decision, the mention of Blake slipping of his radar. He couldn't help but scratch the back of his neck as he chuckled, "Right, yeah. Blake. She's good too."

His speech was being unravelled by the silver-haired man's natural aura. It was most likely that Jaune would look back on this interaction and complain to himself about how much he messed it all up. And while he never was a social butterfly, it wasn't as though he couldn't speak to people.

There were only a few things across Remnant that could throw him off rhythm; a couple being Vul, cute girls, Coral and cats. As you could see, he could fit them onto a single hand. Though, it seemed as though he'd have to move onto the second in the near future. He was the fiddle and Ozpin was the maestro, or at least that was how it felt.

Jaune probably wasn't even registering it as a habit, but Ozpin hummed lightly yet another time – taking a step closer to Jaune so minimal that it was barely noticeable. "Is there nothing else bothering you, Mister Arc? Nothing at all?"

Ignoring the warm wrapping of _green_ around his body, the teen answered truthfully, "No, not really." The question hung off of the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. "Why?"

Giving a loose nod, the silver-haired headmaster took a slow sip from his mug before continuing, "You have no problem with the teams?"

"No, sir." Jaune thought he made it clear that the teams were, all-in-all, some of the best outcomes for him. He knew the members and felt as though he could earn their trust and work well with them.

"So you do not find it strange in the delegation of duty?"

_Delegation of duty…?_ Jaune paused, brain churning to decipher the older man's words. It came together, and the teen had to appreciate how well-worded the headmaster was to address a position like that.

"If you mean if I disagree with Ruby being leader – no. I don't think it's that strange, sir. She deserves it." More so than him, at the very least. He mentioned as much during the ceremony yesterday. Ruby was the best choice to be team leader, Weiss may have had her ups but way too many downs and Blake?

Blake didn't seem the type to want to lead.

"_How interesting,_" Ozpin muttered beneath his breath – so quiet that Jaune would have heard the birds singing outside the corridor before himself. "I see. Thank you, Mister Arc. I do hope you come to enjoy and learn something over the next four years. And I doubt this will be the last time we'll be seeing each other. Ta-ta."

Like that, the welcoming pressure around the blond faded; an invisible weight taken off of his back. Letting out a sigh he didn't know he was even holding, Jaune only snapped out of his trance as Ozpin's systematic tapping of his cane passed by him and into the corridor the boy had just walked from.

Mustering up the courage to look behind himself, Jaune noticed the man's stride was purposeful but relaxed – well-paced and bordering on the line of a march and a saunter. He spoke of this year having quite the assortment of characters. Jaune guessed it only made sense he was such a character himself.

Another rhythmic sound echoed across the hallway as yet another new figure began to stamp on the wood. Sharp and pointed sounds that came ever closer – a woman with blonde and wavy hair furiously tapping her fingers on the large scroll she held across her forearm.

Looking up from it, her emerald eyes looked over her glasses, coming up to Jaune. Her typing stopped and it was then that he recognised her – the secretary from yesterday. "Arc, was it? Mister Arc?" Jaune nodded dutifully. "You haven't happened to seen Professor Ozpin anywhere, have you? He's been missing from his office for the past _two_ hours." She muttered something about piling up paperwork to the side.

Two hours? He was up and working at four in the morning? Jaune had heard of workaholics, but that just seemed over the line. "Uh, yeah," he answered - as he had only just had a one-sided conversation with the man not a minute earlier. Turning around, he pointed along the corridor, "He's just over… there."

The woman looked in the pointed direction before their eyes met again, albeit much more awkwardly. "Mister Arc, I appreciate your willingness to help, but lying to me isn't exactly the best way to show it."

"He was literally just there, I was-"

"Thank you, Mister Arc, but I think I'll take this into my own hands. Like always." She mumbled incoherently as she tapped one last thing into her scroll. Taking her wrist and flipping it over, she read the watch face on the underside. "By the way, I should remind your first class with Professor Port starts at nine and it is currently half past eight; please be on your way." Her eyes darted to his hip, the place where he was holstering Crocea Mors under his belt. "Furthermore, if you wish to carry around a weapon with you around Beacon – I ask that you send a request to the headmaster's office first and foremost."

An entire lecture in the span of half a minute. Jaune felt like he should have been impressed, this woman's sternness didn't fail to instil fear into his heart. Though, Ozpin didn't seem to mind that he was carrying a weapon with him… it didn't matter much; he'd comply with her request.

"Yes, ma'am."

She nodded, making her way down the path that Ozpin walked down a few minutes ago. Jaune shook his head, trying to recall something that the blonde woman said. _`…it is currently half past eight…`_

…

Hang on. Wait a second – though, Jaune guessed it was too late for that anyway. He had woken up at six, that was a fact. The blond's internal clock was conditioned that way. All he had done was talk to Ozpin and daydream, but that couldn't have cut close to an hour – let alone _two_.

A yell from around the corner behind him drew his attention back, "Miss Rose! No running in the halls!" It was the same blonde woman, he could tell – but as he turned around to investigate, he was met with a _floating _Ruby suspended in the air and surrounded in a purple glow.

Uselessly flailing, she moved her arms around wildly to convey something, "Ah, I'm _so_ sorry! I just have to find Jaune or Weiss said she was gonna-" Silver met cerulean as all of her gestures came to a complete halt.

"Hi." Jaune waved lightly.

"Oh, hey, Jaune. Oof-!" The mystical light that radiated around her faded suddenly, leaving Ruby in a pile on the wooden floor. She moaned and grumbled, struggling to pick herself back up despite her unnatural energy.

"Don't let me catch you again, Miss Rose, or the punishment will be much sterner than a slap on the wrist." The voice called out from around the corner, the source invisible to Jaune.

What a scary secretary.

"Yes, ma'am…" Ruby waited on the floor, head craned in the direction the voice came from before she confirmed that it was no longer in line of sight. Standing herself up slowly, she kept her head fixated in the direction and tip-toed past the corner and towards Jaune. Once past it, she sped along once more in a burst of petals. "Jaune!"

The girl managed to bring herself from sixty to zero in a fraction of a second as she now stood in front of Jaune, leant forward and desperate. "That's me. What's wrong, Ruby?"

"You know classes start at nine, right?" He was made quite aware of that fact; yeah, he did. Nodding, Ruby continued, wiping a bead of imaginary sweat off of her brow. "Phew. Thank goodness. I mean, even if you didn't – I'm here now and probably would have told you, so it's not like you _not_ knowing would have been a problem…" Trailing off, the smaller girl's head began to tilt to the side as she silently began to wonder something Jaune could only dream of knowing.

"…Yeah." Was his apt response. It fit the bill in most situations.

"So, anyway, Weiss told us all that we have to wear uniforms to class," she added. At the mention of them, Jaune's attention was dragged to Ruby's attire. Red chequered skirt, black and yellow trimmed blazer- all tied together with a neat bright ribbon. Even brighter, Jaune couldn't help but notice, was the scarlet cloak adamantly wrapped around the girl's neck.

It reminded him in what he was dressed in, namely the difference in atmosphere around their clothes. Hoodie and slacked combat-trousers? Didn't really scream professional in the classroom. Or maybe it did; this _was_ Beacon, after all. He wouldn't dive into the semantics.

Jaune laid an un-gloved hand on the pommel of Crocea Mors. "I can see where this is going…"

"Weiss put your uniform on your bed for you so you shouldn't worry," Ruby said, silver eyes darting to where his hand rested. It looked like she wanted to ask – her mouth opened to say something before it clicked shut.

"I should get going… Weiss says she wants to be there early. We'll bring Blake with us, too." She made to turn around and moments before she sped off again, her head snapped back, "Oh, and could you _please_ wake up Yang for me? Just, like, knock on her door or something because, knowing her, she's probably oversleeping. 'Kay, thanks, bye!"

Before he could have responded, he was left with a cloud of rose petals to talk to in Ruby's stead.

Wake up _Yang?_ They said poking a lion with a stick was a bad idea, no matter the length of it. Obviously, these people have never tried poking a dragon before. This could only go one way.

Sighing, Jaune scratched his head – eyes grazing over the floating petals left in Ruby's wake. "I hope she doesn't get caught by that secretary lady again…"

/-/

So here Jaune stood, the only thing stood between his death and him was a thin slab of mechanised wood. Why exactly was he doing this again?

Right, right. Because Ruby asked.

He couldn't very well deny something his team leader ordered him to do, could he? After all, what kind of team player would he be if he were to go against a direct order? Not a very good one, that was for sure. Nice weather we were having, wasn't it?

Jaune wanted to make himself feel better, like he often did.

Finding the clothes promised laid out neatly on his bottom bunk, the blonde did his best to don the attire the best he could. A year wearing literally the same outfit day in, day out made it feel as though the suit that wrapped around his body was being repelled by some magnetic force. It didn't help he couldn't get his tie on, either; the dumb neck snake bundled in his right hand.

Jaune never bothered to learn how to actually wear one, his mother spoiled him so badly when it came to school – fussing over his appearance and if he was going to make friends or not. He wondered what she was doing right now for half a second, before bringing himself back to reality.

Like before, Crocea Mors sat nestled underneath his belt. He would get it checked out with Ozpin, like he was told to, though Jaune had hoped that nobody would have minded if he kept it on his person for a while longer before doing so.

_Breathe in, breathe out. You got this, Jaune, this is your chance to make a clean slate. Reset everything with her. _And that was under the impression she was even going to be the one answering the door.

A single hand – balled into a fast – came up to the door, knuckles bared against it. One rap, two. Two raps, three. How much did you want to bet Yang was going to break his knee? Chances were pretty high, but on the off-chance that she _didn't_ – it was a good chance to try fix the obvious problems between them.

Silence. Jaune backed away from the door, happy with waiting for a response. The seconds began ticking and the teen was skeptical that anyone was even going to answer until the door gave a robotic beep and slowly creaked ajar.

He was afraid at first, the mere prospect of having to wake up Yang shaking him to his core; the two didn't have the best track record. And even out of likeliness, the ones that he thought would answer would be Nora, Ren then Pyrrha. Lo and behold, his luck was abysmal as always and it was none other than a messy blonde mane greeting him at the door.

Messing with the back of her head, Yang's eyes were lidded – one still fully closed – as she leant slightly onto the door frame. "Wha'?"

"Morning, Yang."

She yawned, the gesture exaggerated but genuine, "Yeah, morning…"

Well, that was a much better response then he could have ever hoped for. Perhaps because it was first thing in the morning, but Yang seemed quite tolerant of his presence – wanting to get whatever he wanted over with. The sentiment was shared.

_Now or never,_ Jaune thought. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said, inclining his head forward slightly in a rough approximation of a bow.

This sounded familiar. His head flashed back to his slightly awkward but much less potentially fatal conversation with Blake during Initiation – which, mind you, did come to a positive resolution. Here was to hoping this one would go the same.

With his head tilted forward, he couldn't see what Yang looked like. Though, he didn't need to for him to know how she felt. Aura worked like that. She was confused, "…Huh?"

Pressing onward, the boy continued, "I know that these past few days we've had our differences-" that sounded like an understatement, "-but I just want to make things right between us. I'm sorry for how I may have treated you and I hope you can forgive me."

He was laying it on pretty thick, though that was the point. In reality, Jaune didn't really think he did that much wrong, but to say so probably wasn't the best idea; the goal here was to reconciliation and _not_ get beaten up later. Maybe lose the death glares, too.

"…" Yang didn't know what to say, it seemed. More of her weight was supported by the door frame as she crossed her arms and favoured one side over the other. Yet again, there was silence.

Did he have to go on? "I know that I'm on a team with your sister now, and I just want you to know-"

"Alright," she said – cutting him off. "Cut it out, will you? You're freaking me out with how polite you're being. Doesn't suit you," Yang muttered slightly, lilac eyes darting to the side.

Jaune raised his head, meeting the flat stare of the buxom blonde – who was clad in the same pajamas from pre-Initiation. Making effort not to linger on areas he shouldn't have, he opened his mouth to speak once more, only to have the chance taken away from him as the other spoke.

Her voice was, understandably, tired and their eyes only stayed in contact for a moment before Yang broke off to think about what she was saying. "What's in the past's the past," Yang stated. "If you want to leave it like that…" Eyelids were completely shut as she let out a sigh, "I guess that I'd be down to try if you're cool with it. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

Between them, she outstretched a slow hand – open and inviting. Jaune stared, making to take it after a second and cracked a nervous smile. "No worries." Yang was being surprisingly civil about the whole thing. Perhaps he misjudged her at first. Laughing lightly, he made small talk, feeling more at ease. "You know, for a second there, I was scared you were going to-"

You'd think he would have always expected the worse after everything he's been through. In truth, he _had_ and just didn't want to think about it. These expectations became a reality; as soon as their fingers touched – he was pulled in face to face with Yang. She smelt like an undiscernible fruit, though Jaune didn't think that was the biggest of his concerns.

"But if you try pull anything weird with my sister, I _will_ break your face. Got it?" Jaune nodded. Fast. It was enough to get Yang to stop, her tired demeanour taking over once again as she backed away into Team PYRN's dorm room. "Well, if that's all I'mma head back to bed, so…"

Despite everything, Jaune was able to prevent himself from peeing his pants. That tone of voice and that head of wild, messy, long hair with _that _look was enough to make him remember someone he did not want to remember any time soon. Just thinking about her made him want to crawl up into a ball and assume as many positions as a foetus could perform.

"About that…" the boy managed, remembering why he was here in the first place. "Ruby sent me here to tell you that classes start at nine, and its currently…" His eyes darted to the clock displayed on the digital lock outside the door. "Eight fifty-five."

"What?!"

Jaune flinched at the ramp up of volume. Behind the blonde, stirrings of the sheets revealed an elegant-looking Pyrrha, in spite of the fact she literally just woke up. He also thought that it should have been noted that Nora was still fast asleep. "Yang…? What's going on? Are you alright?"

Pyrrha's partner was quite clearly in a state of distress, unable to communicate coherently back to the redhead. "What do you mean `it's eight fifty-five`? We're going to be late! Gah! What am I going to wear? What should I do with my hair?" The questions came to a stop as Yang paused, red eyes stalking back to the open door.

"You…"

And that was his cue. In hindsight, probably should have told her earlier but this uniform was the Grimm's work to put on. "I'll see you guys at class. Bye!"

"Get back here right now, you-!" The door was shut on Yang's face before she could get any closer.

Letting out a breath, Jaune turned around and leant against the door – tie still gripped in his left hand and Crocea Mors still resting at his hip. Even like this, he was left with one resounding thought as he picked himself up and began walking to Beacon's main building.

That went much better than he thought it would.

/-/

"…And then I told her that I didn't _have_ any lien on me, so she had to pay for it all!"

"Wow, dude, how could you do her dirty like that?"

"Yeah, even _I_ wouldn't dream of doing anything like that."

"Come on, Cardin, you can't pull one over her like that."

Despite the three other boys' protests of their leader's actions, every single one of them laughed rambunctiously – slapping each other on the back and slugging each other on the arm. Even if they spoke out against him in that way, it's not like they _really _meant it. They were just having fun.

Cardin Winchester strode through Beacon's corridors without a care in the world. Why would he? It was the first day and people already knew who top dog was. Him. Scion to the proud Winchester family, leading his team with him at the head – marching towards their first lesson in a wide cluster of uniformed bodies. If they even planned on going to it, that is.

Because, let's be fair, everything was turning out Cardin.

Other first-year teams moved to the side at the sight of them; even some of the older years were giving them funny looks. Probably scared of the competition. One or two girls giggled as they walked by and Cardin couldn't blame them – Team CRDL _was_ made of some of the best huntsman material of this generation. Nobody would ever dare even thinking of-

"Whoops! Sorry, comin' through." A scrawny looking figure stumbled past them, brushing past one of Cardin's teammates near the back of the huddle – Sky Lark – as he passed the team in a hurry.

Sky gave the guy a distasteful look, but was content at leaving it like that. That was a problem with him, Cardin came to realise. He was too soft in that way. Lucky for him, he had a Winchester to show him the importance of confidence and intimidation.

"Hey! Beanpole!" Cardin snarled, aimed at the ragged blond that thought he had the balls to just disrespect their space like that.

His target turned abruptly, a red tie around his neck in a tangle – completely random in direction and length. A confused stare was all he managed to get out; clearly this guy didn't know who he was dealing with.

"Cardin, man," Sky said, grabbing his shoulder lightly. "Just let it go, dude. It's fine."

Ripping his blazered arm from his teammates grasp, he turned and looked him dead in the eyes and whispering harshly, "No, it's _not_ fine. You need to learn how to stand up for yourself, Sky. Just let me show you." Cardin's head whipped back forward with a smug grin on his face, aiming to show Sky _exactly _how to stand up for himself. "You think you can just shoulder-check one of my teammates and get off scot-free like that?"

The blond guy looked side to side, noticing that there was a small crowd gathering around their little display. This would be good for CRDL's image – the strongest first-year team of Beacon Academy. Hell, give it half a year and they would be the better than the older years.

His mouth opened and shut, like some sort of fish before he started speaking, fully turning around. "Nah, man, that's my bad. I'm real sorry." He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and let Cardin take steps towards his helpless figure.

Getting a better look at the chump, Cardin was able to tell that he had a sword sheathed under his trouser belt and blazer – the hilt sticking out in the front. So he had a weapon on him? And he was still this cowardly?

Internally scoffing, the slightly bigger teen externally grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. It wasn't enough to lift him off of the ground – seeing as the two were near identical in height, but it was about sending a message. Cardin's message was, "Sorry? _Sorry? _Sorry doesn't cut it, pal." He heard Sky shout quietly for him to stop. _Sometimes I wish he wasn't such a softie. Looks like this idiot gets lucky today._ "But I guess if you apologised real nicely to my teammate, I could let it slide this once."

Blue eyes stared into his own, but something about them was off. It wasn't clear to Cardin, but it was almost as if they didn't seem to catch the light – in a way; hazy and cloudy. _And_ he wore jewellery, the boy noticed as his eyes flickered to the cross-shaped earring. If those distant eyes didn't piss him off enough, then the accessory would have. It was so unnecessary and screamed _`edgy`_.

His father always taught him that those kinds of people were the worst kinds of people. After the faunus, of course.

For what felt like an entire minute, the brown-haired teen held the blond by his neck before he nodded once, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Get to it." Dropped by the white of his collar, the blond did as he said he would – making his way with purpose to Sky and bowing slightly as he said sorry.

Sky, the lightweight he was, accepted it with no hassle and told him not to worry about it too much. Russel and Dove eyed the scrawny guy warily, trying to intimidate him. Those two were quicker to catch on.

With his apology done, he walked back forward and past Cardin – bowing his head not to meet his eyes, which pissed off Cardin for whatever reason. As the small crowd began to disperse with a murmur, the rest of Team CRDL came up behind their leader as they lightly discussed what just happened.

"What a loser," Russel said, crossing his arms and staring at the back of the fading figure of the blonde. "Couldn't even stand up for himself."

"Yeah," Cardin noted, gaze drifting to a person in their group. "Reminds me of someone."

Sky grimaced a slight bit, giving each one of his teammates a look that told them he didn't want to talk about it. "Look, guys, let's just leave it at that. We didn't have to make such a big deal out of it. He just bumped into me."

"Come on, dude. If you aren't going to start defending yourself now, what's going to happen when you're up against something like an Ursa? Toughen up." With a pat on the shoulder, Dove encouraged his teammate – hints of pride and concern in his voice.

Nodding, Cardin seemed to agree, "Exactly."

Russel muttered his agreements and Dove was left to sigh and concede, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, guys. Let's just get to this lecture; it's supposed to start at nine."

A click and beep from Cardin's hand revealed he was checking something on his scroll – most likely the time. He reeled back his head and scoffed. "Eight fifty-six. Eh, we'll make it. Let's go."

Once more leading his team, the brunette could shake the lingering feeling of disgust he felt around that scraggly, blond kid he was shaking down. Those eyes were off-putting and they pissed him off. He had a sword at his side and Cardin was unarmed, yet he chose to surrender and comply to his demands. Surely, he got into Beacon – so he probably knew how to use it. Not like he could_ beat _him, but he could have at least tried.

Gods, he pissed him off. He hated people like that.

"What do you think it's going to be about?" Russel asked absentmindedly, pace steady and voice bored.

"I dunno," Dove replied, equally as idly, "but I hope there are some cute chicks."

Cardin scoffed. At least these idiots weren't so bad.

/-/

"Stupid god damn neck wrapper can't just properly – gah! Damn it!" Jaune blazoned into the lecture theatre struggling to correctly get his tie around his collar.

Eventually, he came to the realisation that the might of the cloth and won out – wearing away his patience and determination. He settled with its current deformed look and was completely unwilling to try any further with it.

The theatre itself was busy with chatter, friends greeting each other happily and teams coming together with one another to sit. It was the first lesson at Beacon for everyone, Jaune presumed, so it would make sense that everyone would be so excited. Really, the same could be said about himself.

Despite everything, Jaune still loved the fact he was able to come to Beacon – the place of his dreams – where he knew his own father trained. And he was a strong man. Not the easiest to approach but, to be fair, he tried his hardest.

Jaune and his sisters knew that too, and gratefully accepted any time he had to spare with them. Music lessons, family dancing practise with Juniper, the odd video game. But there was one thing he always refused to do.

He always refused huntsman training.

Not combat training, per se; all of the Arc siblings knew how to swing a sword around to an extent, but rather training to become a huntsman or huntress. Jaune wasn't even sure that his sisters knew what Aura _was_ and he knew for a fact that none of them had it unlocked. When Vul unlocked his, he needed a crash course in how it worked – seeing as though he had little to no clue behind its function.

Amidst the bumbling bodies, Jane picked out a certain assortment of coloured hair and made his way forward – ignoring any and all odd looks he may have received from students that paid attention to him. Was it the unruly tie that looked more akin to a zip-tie than a suit tie? Or perhaps the fact he was carrying around a sword with him? Who could say, really.

"Hey, guys," Jaune said quietly, sitting between Ruby and Blake in what was slowly becoming their regular seating order. "What'd I miss?"

The raven-haired girl next to him sat with one arm crossed at her midsection as the of a book hid her face. Her golden eyes peaked over the top and nodded towards the other two members of the team who seemed to be in the middle of something along the lines of a conversation.

"All I'm saying is that it shouldn't be that much of a problem, Weiss… I don't know why you're being so stingy about it." Ruby said complainingly, pouting as her arms drooped to her side and pulling forward the tail-end of her cloak.

Leaning towards her partner, Weiss' arms were crossed as she spoke, "Hmph. I'll have to check with the faculty about it at a later date, just to make sure." Her gaze made its way toward the new blond, filling in the gap left by them. "There you are. I was beginning to wonder whether or not you would even show up."

"Of course I would…" Jaune whispered, blue eyes fixated on the patterned wood of the desk in front of him. He wasn't just going to _miss _his first lesson at Beacon.

"You can hardly blame me," Weiss responded, uncrossing an arm and taking her scroll out of her skirt pocket and flicking it on. "Look how late you are!" To emphasise, she shoved the device past Ruby and into his face – revealing the time to be `8:58`

A raised eyebrow and a slightly questioning look as Jaune swivelled his head to face Weiss. "How can I be late if it hasn't even started yet?" He asked, tone tinting with a slight edge.

"But you _could_ have been late."

"That's not how being late works…"

Promptly ignoring him, Weiss next chose to look at his neck – icicles digging into his skin past the fabric of his suit. "And what on _Remnant_ is that?"

"It's a tie," he responded truthfully. It _was _a tie. Not a very well-made one, but that didn't detract from what he just said.

"By the gods…" Audibly, the girl slapped a hand to her face and dragged it down. "Don't tell me you don't know how to wear a tie, Arc."

Losing confidence, embarrassment filled the void left by it. "Give me a break," Jaune muttered pathetically. "I haven't had to wear one of these things for ages…"

Barrelling through the door was another group of four. A familiar group of four.

Team PYRN rushed into the lecture hall – wooden contraption slamming into the wall as it was sent rocketing back at Yang's kick. With it open, the door revealed a panting blonde with sweat dripping down her brow and a head of bed hair that looked like a badly-made yellow fur rug.

"Not late!" Yang yelled, attracting the attention of many students. She took the attention in stride, still breathing heavily as she waved cheerfully to those who looked her way and made her way towards Team RASB.

Following her were her teammates – Pyrrha, Ren and Nora – in similar states. Pyrrha appeared mostly fine, the only indicator being a single liquid bead rolling along her cheek. But Ren? Man, that guy looked like an absolute wreck as his hands were on his knees. If Jaune didn't know any better, he would have suspected him to either cough up blood or pass out right then and there.

_Believe me, man, _the blond thought solemnly, looking onto the pitiable sight with a sorry gaze, _I've been there. Cardio sucks ass. _Nora was the one currently carrying him along – quite literally, he might have added – as she lugged the boy over her shoulders and shadowed Pyrrha up the stairs.

"Not late." Reaffirmed Yang, plopping down at the desk behind Weiss – who was the farthest along the row.

Jaune gave Weiss a very pointed look and flickered his gaze to Yang, to which she scoffed and rolled her eyes – soon finding interest in the chalkboard and the Grimm-related memorabilia surrounding it.

"Hello again, everyone!" Sitting next to Yang was Pyrrha, her scarlet hair bobbing slightly with the motion. Next was Nora, who placed Ren in the seat next to her like one would with a life-size doll. Ren mumbled his thanks – slumping over the wooden desk in front of him.

"Hey, Pyrrha!" Ruby greeted joyfully. "You had a good night sleep?"

She nodded her head, "Yes, I did. Thank you, Ruby." It seemed like the two team leaders naturally got along quite well, Jaune noted. Be it Pyrrha's constant politeness or Ruby's general demeanour, but they felt like good friends already.

"Though, I'll have to admit…" Pyrrha added, turning her emerald eyes away bashfully, "We did have quite a rude awakening…"

Along the row, Yang was whistling nonchalantly, admiring the paint on the walls. Jaune would accept some responsibility if he had to.

But he didn't, so responsibility could suck it.

The last of the class filtered through the open door and, finally, it seemed as though nine o'clock had rolled about. What also seemed to roll about was their teacher, clad in a red-buttoned jacket and coming into the theatre with an air of purpose.

Hair silver – but not the shining type like Professor Ozpin's, which made it more grey to Jaune – their Professor for today had finally arrived. On the dot, too, it seemed. Marching towards the desk in front of the green chalkboard, he slammed his hands down onto the wood and stared at the class. Eyes roaming left and right, they seemed to examine each and every person within the room. Pretty impressive since they were covered by his massive eyebrows.

"Hm." He hummed, it coming out both gruff and airy at the same time. The professor retracted his hands, linking them behind his back. "Welcome to Grimm Studies, children! My name is Professor Port. Peter Port. Huntsman extraordinaire, Slayer of all things Grimm… and _ladies._" Professor Port's eyebrow came down in something that resembled a wink.

Well, there went _his_ credibility. At least to Jaune. Though, a quick look around showed that Weiss seemed conflicted, Ruby hesitant, Yang grimacing and Blake slowly lowering herself under the desk. Maybe it wasn't just him, then.

"In this class you will learn of the ins and outs of each and every Grimm known to mankind." Interesting. Jaune knew a lot himself, but it didn't hurt to have more knowledge at his disposal. You know what they say about power and knowledge. "And who better to teach you all than myself? A man of action. Of heroism. Of _passion_." Professor Port stated proudly, a finger pointed in the air as he winked again.

The very obvious winces didn't stop his roll, "Because this is your first lesson at Beacon, I have prepared a very special surprise that one of you lucky students will be assisting in." Murmurs of question began to raise in volume, but the professor's voice cut through it all massively and bringing the class back to slience. "However! First, perhaps I should tell you all of a little tale from my youth. To inspire, of course."

Clearing his throat, he began, "It was a dark, night in Mistral. But not _dark,_ dark – for there were lights in the sky. Not just the stars and the moon. _Fire._ I was caught in the middle of it…"

* * *

A loud explosion rumbled the earth he laid on.

Jaune came back to consciousness, face laid flat on the dirty and damp floor of an alleyway. He rose it in an attempt to gain a better understanding of his surroundings. It smelt like blood, faeces and piss. And… gunpowder? Dust, too. That was new. Had he passed out? How in the hell…

One arm pushed him off of the grimy stone below him, and he grabbed at his knee to pull him the rest of the way up. The combined weight of himself and his backpack somewhat hindering him in his recent regaining of consciousness.

Slowly beginning to come to the realisation what where he was and what he was doing. His breathing sped up at the thoughts racing through his head. The interrogation, the White Fang, Vul, the faunus that they had gotten information out of.

Wait.

He knew something was missing. That something was the body of the tailed-faunus that should have been lying unconscious near him. His gloved hand grabbed at the top of his blonde locks. How long had he been out for? How much had happened? "Fuck…" Jaune whispered. His voice was hoarse – dry. The curse had been aimed at his headache, but it could have really been applied to everything right now, Jaune felt. What was he supposed to do now?

Vul spoke, his voice close but form nowhere to be seen. It answered, _`Get out there, kid.`_

That was insane, what if he died- _`You won't.`_

Screams, loud and harsh came from outside the alleyway. They were scratchy and desperate. They needed someone to save them. Jaune's head shot in the direction, but body firmly planted in place – unwilling to move. More questions raced through his head, each one shooting a pang into his brain.

Could he do it? Was he strong enough now? Flashes of the past; bloody brown sweater – salty tears on his tongue. The screams came again, a different person but the same direction. What did that mean? Was he too late?

_Again._

"Fuck!" It came out as a roar. The stiffness in his muscles was released and Jaune pushed off into the lit darkness of the outside streets. If he could it, he wouldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't let anyone feel the loss he once felt. That was he was training to do, right? To be a huntsman.

To be a hero.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Run, Jaune, run!**

**We introduce CRDL in this chapter, whoop-dee-doo. I don't think the show really did them much justice in the way of their characters (like a majority of the V1-3 cast). They were simply a vehicle to showcase Jaune's character growth in attitude, with Cardin really being the only one to have traits to begin with – and _that's_** **being generous. In the end, he was still a two-bit character that received no growth.**

**Originally the plan had been to end farther along the timeline, but I guess some things just aren't meant to be.**

**And I'm back! Don't know if my writing ability has improved or degraded, though that _is_ what the reviews are for. Inbox is open and such. **

**As always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	10. Chapter 10: Blood Red Ties

**Author's Notes:**

**Got another chapter ahead done so lemme let this one loose on the world. ****Left you all with a cliff hanger, so let's start with some in media res, ey?**

**I don't want to say too much (like always) but Jaune's past is going to be a very influencing reason to how he is in present day. At first, I was hesitant doing exposition in a flashback format but I don't think I regret my choice. It leaves a lot to be questioned. What specifically, you'll have to find out. Oh, and next chapter will be an important one addressing a very controversial decision made a few chapters back so stay tuned!**

**And the titles for each of the chapters always have vague hints and links to other chapters depending on the contents. Nobody really cares, most likely, just thought I'd put that out there for anyone that actually does lmao.**

**In any case, hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**Man, these things just keep getting longer…**

* * *

"Help me! Please!"

Another Beowolf practically impaled itself onto the weapons that Jaune called Crocea Mors' substitutes. It howled in agony, its breath smelling like decaying rot mixed with faint copper. With grit teeth, the boy powered past the shaking in his legs long ago – ripping his sword deeper into the chest of the beast. Eventually, it faded with a pathetic whimper, ash flaking from the corpse on the rusted steel of his blade and leaving Jaune with only the harsh breathes he let out in futile respite.

This was hell. Gods, it was hell.

Buildings were lit ablaze, wooden and stone structure alike blazing in a glorious inferno – so hot that it felt like the leather that he was wearing was about to melt. The streets were littered with debris, ash and… blood. It was black as coal and already beginning to flutter away in the wind, bringing Jaune slight relief. Though it didn't chance the fact that everything in his immediate sight was either destroyed or _being_ destroyed.

Under the shattered moon in the night sky, what he could _see_ wasn't the only thing he could _sense_. The smell of the alleyway prior seemed to leak into the main streets of the small village, faeces and urine circulated around the burning cold air with the undeniable scent of death looming over. Gods, there it was. That was what death smelt like. Jaune didn't, and would have never, thought in his life that death itself would have a recognisable smell but here he was. It was almost punching him in the face with its pungency.

A spike entered the back of his head. Not a physical one, but a mental one.

It was the exact same feeling when Vul decided to drop in on him with his scythe from gods know where, or when Vul chucked a rock at him from the other side of the damn forest. It was danger. Jaune knew that there was danger behind him. He resisted every urge to barrel out of the way with a spring of his legs, instead tearing the dented shield he donned upwards to where he felt the source to be.

Heavy paws slammed into the steel, making Jaune buckled before remembering to direct his Aura to his legs and arms. Next was his other hand, with the worn blade, that came through the Grimm's midsection in a single, clean, horizontal slice. Whatever it was, it reeled back in pain and Jaune wasted no time in bursting forward and shoving the sword straight into the jugular – killing it instantly.

While it faded into dust, the boy only just noticed that it was an Ursa he slew. He didn't even realise until it was already over. It was just so-

Again.

The cadaver of the freshly killed Ursa Minor still retained enough mass to act as a springboard for Jaune as he pulled his weapon free of the flesh and flipped forwards and over the other dangerous presence with great effort. He landed with a rough roll, pushing himself up from a knee, only to see that a Boarbatusk had rammed straight into the dusted corpse of the previous Grimm.

Like the creature of destruction it was, it wasted no time swiveling backwards and charging headfirst yet again at breakneck pace. _`Don't be afraid to make losing your weapon a weapon in itself. You'd be surprised how effective it can be.`_ Jaune's arm found itself behind his body before launching itself forward, letting the round shield loose in the free air as its worn edges became a deadly advantage in its rotation.

Snorting angrily, the Boarbatusk kept a steady pace and attempted to bat it away with its tusks. Audibly, the boney structures snapped and the beast flinched before rolling into its side and tumbling the rest of the way towards Jaune pathetically. Timing and balls. With a precision two-handed stab, the rusty steel was buried into the Boarbatusk's soft underbelly – causing it to squeal in pain before dropping all tension.

Two hands laid on the pommel of the sword, two Grimm fading into the fierce winds that plagued the burning town, heavy breaths forcing their way in and out of Jaune's airway – the boy was left only to wonder what had just happened. Instinct, he would assume. An instinct that Vul had developed within him, inadvertently or not.

"Please, somebody, help!" But his work wasn't over yet.

Scrambling back to action, he scraped the straps of the shield on the floor and dashed over to the voice; his tight backpack refusing to move any further with each and every stride. There it was. Or perhaps, more accurately, there _she_ was. The source of the voice.

A frail-looking woman, dirtied with black scorch marks on her shopkeeper attire. Her hair was short-ish, white and curly that made it seem as though there were balls of wool. Though, most-strikingly, from her hair came a pair of sheep's ears that were drooped and shivering at the black beast that stalked the woman against the wall. The Beowolf stalked the poor, helpless woman - fully intent in ripping her insides out with its jagged teeth.

Green skirt, white apron, wavy hair.

No. Not again. He promised himself, even if he couldn't keep that promise he made back then. An Arc never went back on their word…

Roaring with ferocity, Jaune forced Aura into his leg and _tore_ the longsword straight through the flesh of the Beowolf, stood on its hind legs. From the chops to the knave, the sea of black fur parted with his dull grey blade – splattering blood all over the teen's face and body before uselessly turning to dust.

Seconds of silence, before the teen rose his face to meet the gaze of the floored woman. To his immediate surprise, she flinched backwards slightly. Jaune was taken aback, his features shifting to confusion. It took him a few seconds to realise why.

Mere seconds prior, his face was twisted and contorted into a vile snarl – bright sapphire eyes turning into pupils that housed the black sea. He looked like an animal, something _worse _than the Grimm that he ripped apart. The amount of effort it took to wipe that look away was tremendous and terrifying to Jaune.

"No, no, no – it's alright now. Don't worry, I'm here." He had to do what he could to calm her down. Jaune kneeled down slowly over the ashes of the Beowolf, putting his sword down carefully and raising his arms in a gesture of surrender. Approaching the sheep-faunus woman slowly, the boy continued, "Everything's going to be okay now, I promise." An Arc never went back on their word. At least, he hoped so.

"M-m-my son," the woman stuttered out, struggling to overcome her initial fear. "We got separated, h-he told me to run… I can't believe that I listened to him! What kind of mother am I?! My poor boy…" Tears spilled and she feebly attempted to wipe them clear. The sight broke his very heart, and Jaune felt a sudden need to properly comfort her.

What if that was _his_ mother? What if Sapphire or Saffron told her to run, willing to sacrifice themselves for their mother's life. Jaune wouldn't blame them; he'd do the same in a heartbeat.

"Here, look at me." Jaune placed a hand on the fair-haired woman's aproned shoulder, letting her eyes stare over her palms as he intended to soothe her in every aspect he could. "I told you not to worry, didn't I? I'll get you your son back. I give you my word." Craning his head backwards, the blond made sure the coast was clear before instructing the woman on where to go. "Head through that street, take the first left and then go straight ahead. There won't be any Grimm. Find a group, stay with them and get to safety.

Well, he didn't know for sure, but it was the best he could offer as he came from that very direction, after all. "Understand?"

The woman nodded, before standing herself and taking wary darts of her head in every direction – ultimately going where the teen told her to. Doing much the same, the nervous shake in Jaune's legs didn't disappear as he retrieved his weapon. Gods, it was so hard to communicate so little information. And the promise he made…

Brown sweater, torn and bloodied. Wide smile, slashed and cut. Warm touch, cold as ice.

Coming to a sprint with a single stride, Jaune scanned the alleyways and streets frantically searching for anybody resembling something of a sheep faunus. Grimm of all kinds stalked the shadows that stemmed from the warmth of the bright fires that engulfed around. They were much too busy trying to create as much a ruckus as possible to notice him, though. He used the fact to his advantage, not worrying too much about the thuds of his boots as he ran.

But if he were to listen closely above the sound of his boots, faint gunshots would have rebounded from the dimly lit stars above.

Suddenly, Jaune had his eyes snap in front of him; the path turning to a crossroad and a singular figure nervously stood in the middle – quivering and uncertain. It looked like a boy, not too much older with him, with snow-white cotton balls for hair that were splotched with dirt and soot. All with a pair of sheep ears drooping weakly at the side of his head. The boy was only a few hundred metres from his mother, it would only take a shout to gain his attention.

And, of course, before Jaune could even call out to him, a multitude of growls and snarls drowned out any sort of sound he was planning to make. Instead, the boy settled with whispering angrily as opposed to attempting to make himself known to the faunus a hundred or so metres away.

"God damn it…" Jaune readied himself with his sword and shield, saying a much ruder string of curses in his head as his target was right in front of him. All that stood in his way was a wall of black matter that wanted him dead. Grimm readied in a blurry line were beginning to notice his presence.

Like he expected, the first Grimm to pounce for blood was a Beowolf – which was quickly disposed of with a sidestep and slash. The blood turned to dust as fast as it sprayed out and the corpse crumpled onto the charred cobble path below. The other Grimm in pack – an assortment of the more common Ursa and Beowolves – seemed to reel back slightly, but were ultimately undeterred.

Another curse slipped out of Jaune's dry lips; the hot smoke of the blazing buildings was getting to him, "Shit…" _If this keeps up, _he thought, _I'm not going to be able to break through…_ The amount of Grimm was too vast, making Jaune question if he could even take on that many if he was pushed to.

"Hey, what are you doing? Get off of me! Help!" A boyish voice screamed in obvious distress.

"Shut the hell up! Just stop struggling, damn it!" The second voice was oddly familiar and distinct but tinged with frustration and anger. But whatever it was, they didn't sound very nice.

It looked as though Jaune had no other choice _but_ to break past the horde before him if he wanted to make sure he could keep his promise. Though he practically knew that it was impossible to fight them all off, that most definitely wasn't his only option in this situation. No single problem had a set path to get to the solution.

No time to think anymore. Another Ursa decided to charge forward, and instead of move out of the way, Jaune decided that _this _was his best shot at getting past the horde. Rushing forward, the Ursa was too late to raise itself onto hind legs or swipe as the teen was already propelled skyward – above the beast – before his boot slammed down onto the Grimm, Aura shining on his leg.

_Yes!_ Jaune's mind was racing, he'd guess due to the adrenaline but the fear was an aspect too. Flying past the assortment of Grimm below him, one or two Beowolves seemed to have a similar idea to him – pouncing without consent onto Ursa and larger beasts to launch themselves up to take a chunk out of him.

Seeing the inevitability of collision, Jaune knew he had to do something. Fast. Even with his brain on overdrive, it was working against him; _think_ wasn't exactly fight or flight, and his adrenaline certainly wasn't helping him out.

Memories of countless beatings taken from the blunt side of a heavy steel scythe rose up in his adrenaline-fueled body. Words like `_Dodge!` _and _`Move!` _were essentially burnt into his cerebral cortex and forcing his extremities into place. How was he supposed to get out of the way? How was he supposed to move? His mind raced faster, cogs starting to spark.

_Think, Jaune, think!_ Ever closer, there was only a second left to react. That was when it hit him.

He didn't need to get out of the way. He just needed to get rid of the problem.

Fingers wrapped like a vice around the blade in his right hand, Jaune was almost supernaturally drawn to what he knew he had to do.

_There!_

Descending, Jaune's foot once more landed onto the head of a stray and unfortunate Ursa before pushing himself off at an angle – starting to rotate; ever increasing in speed. With a ferocious yell of his own, the rusty blade in his palm swept through the feral creature with effort in a mid-air spinning slice, creating a rain of dissipating crimson-black.

He couldn't ready himself in time for the second one. Its teeth sank into his arm – or what would have been his arm if the edge of his shield didn't catch the Beowolf's maw.

Jaune couldn't lose any momentum if he wanted any chance of making it past the rest of the wall. Gritting his teeth and praying to any deity willing to listen, he slashed at his other arm with his blade. It passed just under, catching the leather straps that fastened the contraption onto his arm. Nothing more was needed as Jaune turned around to let the shield slide off due to the direction of motion – and with its departure, the threat of the Beowolf left also.

Once. His leather-clad back slammed into the mixture of dirt and cobble. Twice. It was his front this time. He shut his eyes tightly, grit his teeth tighter and gripped the hilt of his sword tightest. Jaune hit the ground for the third time, finally skidding and rolling instead of being punted upwards. Truthfully, it hurt a lot more than bouncing but the only thing he could feel more than the pain was relief.

Jaune came to a halt, grunting and pushing off of the ground weakly. He had done it. He had made it past that impossible amount of Grimm. All there was left to do was save that boy.

"Don't fucking move."

Blond locks were draped in front of his vision but were useless in hiding the fact of the matter. His bright, sapphire orbs widened – pupils trembling – as he looked down into the black spiraling barrel of a handgun. Jaune wanted to flinch backwards, doing so only to be screeched at once again.

"I said don't fucking move, human!"

"O-okay. Okay." Staying as he was on his hands and knees, the frightened teen made to tilt his head upwards just a little to get a better view. Doing so, he saw what he feared he would. No, he wasn't afraid of getting shot; he had Aura left.

He was afraid of who _else_ could. Eyes flickered to the cotton-haired boy in the arms of the brown-haired faunus, whose head was locked in the crux of the man's forearm.

"Just let him go." Jaune said, looking to the hostage. The person he was asked to save. "You don't have to do this."

The faunus scoffed. Or spat. It didn't really matter. "Didn't have to do this? Are you kidding?" He paused, as if to take in the scenery of burning chaos around him like it was a midsummer evening. "All of this is necessary!"

Something inside Jaune snapped at the man's tone, so spiteful and arrogant. Hints of desperation coated with insanity and laced in radicalism. It overcame his fear. It made him shout, "What are you talking about?! All of this death - houses razed to the ground, burnt, and families torn! Are you saying it's all needed?"

Passion and intensity flooded his voice. Eyes even more so. Though despite it, the brown-haired faunus looked at him in almost genuine confusion, shaking his head slowly. The word came out easily.

"Yes."

He was stunned. So stunned that he forgot how to speak for an instant. He had no comeback, no answer, no words to convey how _wrong_ this all was. Because what was the point? This terrorist had thrown redemption away and Jaune didn't need more time to figure that out.

Slowly, his eyes were drawn back to the hand holding the gun, trailing the hand down to arm – from the arm to the elbow. It was a purple-brown, looking distantly disfigured but still functional.

"It's you…" Jaune whispered faintly.

Somehow the man heard, before chuckling with an ugly growl. "You finally realised, huh, kid? Fucking humans. Can't even remember the people they _break_ the arms of."

Shaking his head, tears pricked at the teens eyes. Sadly, they couldn't relieve themselves from the sides of his orbs, the liquid feeling like it evaporated the instant it left. Was this his fault? Jaune lowered his head, shielding his face from vision and slapping his hands – one of which still holding his sword – to the ground.

He didn't care if he was being held at gunpoint. Jaune begged. "Please… just let him go… You're White Fang, aren't you? Why are you killing your own kind?"

"Those who stand idly by and watch, those who sit on the sidelines, those who are complacent; they all deserve the same. If you aren't with the cause, you're against it – no matter the race. I'm doing the Fang a justice by getting rid of the weaklings who can't even stand with us!"

A second of silence.

_Click!_

Jaune upreared his head in a flash.

The gun was no longer pointed at him. Instead, the barrel was bearing down the brains of the sheep faunus who gave all resistance up at the mere possibility of getting them blown out - bullet lodged into the chamber.

"I'm doing what's right." Slightest amounts of tension were visible on his finger. "For the glory of the White Fang!"

Jaune's legs exploded forward.

The barrel exploded faster.

* * *

"…and it was at that point that I realised…" Professor Port took a breath. His voice took an edge of remorse as he looked away from the class. "Perhaps I wasn't the great huntsman I made myself out to be."

...

"Well." Yang whispered behind them, chin in her palm and wide-eyed for effect. "_That_ was depressing."

Jaune was in a similar position, one hand holding his chin – the other the blasted tie. He couldn't do much but agree. For their professor to introduce his class to Beacon Academy in such a way… well, it certainly _was_ a way to do it. A small part of him related to the man's story, faint memories of the past lingering in the air.

Humming thoughtfully, Jaune replied without thinking, "Yep."

Next to him, Ruby shuffled nervously. Turning slightly, he could see the girl rubbing her hands between her legs in a fidgety fashion, eyes conflicted and closed mouth quivering. Jaune widened his eyes at the sight. _I'm feeling a sense of déjà vu coming on._ Remembering her outburst at pre-Initiation, he began to understand what was going on.

The story hadn't been a very pleasant one, to say the least. A quick look to the remaining portion of the class, many people seemed to share the sentiment. It was a tale of old, filled with themes that the illusioned youth may have never thought of. Smart, Jaune thought. Better to expose them to what they would be working towards than to let them dream in naïveté. His eyes looked back to his friend.

But was it the right thing to do?

"Hey," Jaune whispered. "You alright, Ruby?"

Flinching, she seemed to have snapped out of something – drawing the attention of Weiss as she answered. "H-huh? Oh, yeah, no worries. Heh heh…"

Quite surprisingly, it was Weiss who picked up the conversation. "Ruby," she said sternly – almost caringly. "I… I think I understand how you might feel about something… something like this and I want you to know that I feel the same." At first, she wasn't looking directly at her partner, instead staring off into the distance but, soon enough, she turned, pale-blue eyes filled with a warmth that felt almost foreign to Jaune.

"Things like this can happen, that unfortunately a fact of the world that we live in. But," Weiss continued firmly, just before Ruby had the chance to speak up, "that's why we are here, isn't it? To learn. To be better. So much so that perhaps, one day, we may become good enough to stop all of these atrocities once for all."

Ruby smiled softly, eyes slowly welling with the smallest of tears. "Weiss…" Promptly, she sniffed and wiped a sleeve across her face. "No, Weiss. We _will._ We _will_ stop things like this from happening. We _will_ be the best that the world has ever seen." Her head swiveled back to Jaune, tilting and smiling a brighter way this time. "As a team."

He would be lying if he said he didn't find her smile infectious. "Right. As a team." Even if it seemed as though all hope for the world was lost, there would be people like Ruby – Jaune guessed. Those who always had hope – no, those who always _brought_ hope with them. Even if it was false hope, it was what the people would need. The people _needed_ someone like Ruby.

_But someone like me…_

Turning around to meet Blake, Jaune thought he may as well have _actually_ included the entire team in this shindig if their own team was leader encouraging it. "As a team, right, Blake…?"

The raven-haired girl was flat on her forehead, book stood up on the desk to shield her sleeping form from sight of their professor. _I guess the story had more of an effect on some rather than others._

Ruby giggled freely, while Weiss looked much more distressed – ultimately settling for a disapproving shake of the head, sighing, "Unbelievable…"

"I'd say," Jaune added, turning back to face Weiss. "Who would have thought that after Ruby's Grand Sleepover Speech would be succeeded by a heartfelt declaration from you, Weiss?" At his remark, the caped girl sat next to him had red creep onto her face in embarrassment at the memory.

"Why are you giving it a _name_…?"

Weiss harrumphed, "And what _exactly_ is that supposed to mean, Arc?" When all she would receive in response was a slight shrug and a nervous smile, she would put her nose up and crossed her arms in a Weiss-like fashion. "Hmph."

Behind them, Nora chattered away freely – Ren forcing her to keep a quiet volume – while Pyrrha and Yang had a quiet conversation about their professor's tale, one seemingly more concerned about it than the other. Both teams continued chattering, many other students gathering the courage to discuss the events relayed to them. Because even if it was truthful or not, it didn't change the fact that the story had messages to unfold and meanings to uncover.

As Ruby and Weiss started a discussion of their own (and by that, Jaune meant that the smaller girl was desperately trying to avoid interacting anymore with her partner by craning her head as far away as possible), Jaune looked to the tie balled up in his own hand, the one he couldn't get around his neck. Maybe all he had to do was try harder. But then, how much harder did he have to try? Unfurling the maroon fabric, he began to wrap it under his collar.

There was only one way to find out.

"Alright, class, settle down." Professor Port's voice cut through the students' quite massively with impressive experience. "I foresaw the effect that such a story may have had on you young ones, and such – I have prepared a surprise for all of you! Something to lift all of your spirits."

The chatter that the man had once worked to die down had slowly began to rise back in volume. Letting it happen, Professor Port leant against the desk behind him in a pleased fashion, and let the excitement build.

"A surprise!?" To _no-one's_ surprise, Ruby was the easiest to influence with the mere prospect of one - all of the doubt from earlier swept from her attitude. She leant closer to Weiss, who had just escaped her partner's clingy conversation habits and was not looking too pleased with their return. "What do you think it could be, Weiss?"

Eager to satisfy the silver-eyed girl's thirst for an answer, Weiss responded haphazardly, "Oh, I don't know, maybe some extra homework? That would be a surprise for sure."

Ruby looked disgusted and recoiled. "_Homework? _But it's the first day of school… they wouldn't be _that_ mean." She looked into the distance for a second before coming to a query. "Right?"

"It was a joke, Ruby," Weiss sighed. "A joke."

Seconds passed before metallic eyes widened and brown brows raised. The cape-clad girl leapt onto her partner in something that could have been described as a hug if the receiver didn't seem so repulsed at the idea. "I knew you cared! You made your first joke with me!"

"Get off of me, Ruby! I swear, this will be the last time I even _attempt _the niceties with you!"

"We're basically best friends now!"

/-/

Somewhere on the row behind them, Yang was snickering – looking somewhat a mix between being amused and pleased with herself as she leant on her palm. She was happy that Ruby was fitting in better than she expected. Her gaze drew itself onto the boy to the right of her little sister, hard at work in trying to wrap the tie around his neck correctly.

_Maybe I was too harsh on him._

She was just scared. It didn't excuse her behaviour but she was scared. Scared of many things. Many of those things revolved around Ruby. While the blonde would hold off on her prejudice for now, she couldn't help but dislike those eyes of his. Even with his back to her, their distant and hazy gloss was something that told her to watch out. To be careful. It was familiar, in some creepy sense.

"Yang?"

"Hm?" Yang rose her head from its perch on her gloved hand. Laying the same arm on the desk flat, she turned slightly to meet her partner. "'Sup, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha smiled sweetly and politely. It seemed to be something true to her nature to default to politeness, at least it seemed that way to Yang. "You just look like you were spacing out. Are you alright?"

For a split second, her partner seemed more like her sister. Their concern was pretty similar, in a sense. Closing her eyes briefly, Yang re-opened them and let no signs of concern dance in their lilac stage. "Man, Pyrrha, what are you worried about?" Flashing the redhead a toothy grin, Yang made a show of having an energy to her. "I'm A-OK, Pyr, so chillax – `kay?"

The taller girl gave her a weird, sustained look with a tilted head before answering. "Well, when you put it like that, I guess you're fine… I think."

Staring at each other blankly, all it took was a single blink from both parties.

They both began to laugh it off; Pyrrha's politeness and Yang's carefreeness seemed to give them things to bounce off of. If Yang had learnt anything about her new partner, it would be that she _got_ comedy. Unlike some.

No, it was more unlike most.

Pyrrha continued along another path, taking advantage of the entire classroom's conversation to create one of her own. "So, what do you think Professor Port's _'__surprise'_ is going to be?" Good question. There was an almost infinite number of things the man could show them. It was hard to narrow it down.

"I dunno… what about you?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of a long-lost relic that he had encountered along his travels and is willing to share with us to reveal its _secrets_," Pyrrha said with a completely straight face.

"…That was a joke, right?" Yang squeezed out dryly.

Emerald orbs widened and looked to the side and back in a fraction of the second before the girl replied very slowly. "…Yes."

"Well." It was probably better to change to subject and spare the poor girl from any embarrassment. Yang would save that for Ruby. "Maybe he wants to give us a live demonstration of some cool huntsman tricks." A pretty boring answer but a likely one at the same time.

Though, it was enough to satisfy their team leader, who nodded thoughtfully. Pyrrha hummed in acknowledgement until her expression suddenly twisted as Yang was gripped by the arm and shook with such vigour she felt the blood vessels in it getting tied up. It wasn't only that, the yellow-maned girl finally noticed, but her entire body was rocking back and forth – giving her a sense of nausea she would have much preferred not having.

"Guys, guys, look!" Nora, the girl currently making her feel like she was about to lose an arm, pointed obviously to an object at the side of the room. It was covered in a deep crimson cloth and about as tall as their professor.

Yang would have liked to get a better look, but the ginger's unrelenting assault was making it hard.

She made sure to communicate that best she could. "Nora… would love to see… what you're talking about… but you mind… letting go?" After her desperate plea for reprieve, the smaller girl came to a halt abruptly, much to her surprise.

"Come on, Nora, that's enough." None other than Lie Ren came to her rescue, easing his friend with a simple pull of the shoulder. He gave Yang an invisible smile and a silent apology through the slightest of eye contact, to which she _thought_ she reciprocated but wasn't too sure because of how the room was spinning every which way to Sunday.

Truly, he was an unsung hero of Remnant.

"Is that a box of some sort?" Pyrrha observed idly, leaning past her partner to get a view of the object that had her ginger-haired teammate so engrossed.

"It sure seems like it," Yang replied woozily. Again, she wasn't really sure, but the object was a vague red silhouette of a square, so… "Totally a box." She tried cradling her forehead to quell the vibrations rattling within her head. It was unsuccessful.

"And, if I'm seeing this right, is it _moving?_"

Yang's hazed vision seemingly cleared in an instant. Her cradling came to stop as she started to ponder the words uttered by the leader of Team PYRN. Cranking her head towards the cloth-draped mystery box, she leant forward to observe closely. Similarly, both Nora, Pyrrha, and – surprisingly – Ren did much the same.

Sure enough, the cloth seemed to pulsate and convulse _very_ slightly – giving the impression of a beating heart.

"What the f-"

/-/

"You think he's going to show us some sort of cool huntsman trick?"

"No."

"Maybe it's going to be a super awesome huntsman weapon that was custom made with all sorts of the newest mods and attachments!"

"I highly doubt that a professor at Beacon would be so frivolous with their money."

"What if he's going to show us his ultra-rare collection of claws, tusks and fangs from evolved Grimm?"

"No- what?" Weiss took a second to comprehend what was just said before snapping her head to the girl next to her. "That doesn't even make sense. Grimm fade to dust on death. You know that, don't you?"

Very aptly, Ruby paid no heed to her partner's very logical assessment. Instead, her eyes sparkled silver with exhilaration. "What if he's going to give us cookies and cream?!"

"Are you even trying anymore?"

Twisting on the bench, her cape whipped around with her, intent on asking her other new friend for his own thoughts on the subject. "What about you, Jaune?" To her surprise, Ruby's question went unanswered. The blond boy next to her was still attempting to get the tie properly fixed around his neck. He would wind it around under the collar, fold it and insert it between itself, realise he did it wrong and then reset. Over and over again, he repeated – though interestingly, Jaune seemed quite distant.

In the sense that he wasn't _really_ sat next to her right now.

Sure he was there and very much alive. Just _thinking_, is how Ruby would have described him. Focussed on a singular point of the wooden desk in front of him, Jaune's face was flat and eyebrows were very slightly furrowed – radiating a feeling of faraway intensity.

"Jaune?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah – no." He answered with every response you could have to anything. Despite his vocal acknowledgement, his gloved hands were like clockwork; mechanical. Unable to complete their role but trying to nonetheless.

"But I didn't even ask a question…" At her second attempt to get Jaune's attention, she was well received. Slowly but surely, his pale cerulean eyes made their way over to meet her own. His hands had also stopped mindlessly trying to properly affix his neck tie – suspended in the position them were moments before he responded.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, looking disorientated. "I think I must have dozed off or something…"

_It sorta seemed like more than that…_ Ruby thought, but refused to put the words on her tongue. Instead, she settled for a light prod to his side. "Is everything okay, Jaune?" Her tone was filled with as much curiosity as it was worry, and the girl hoped that it wouldn't come across as such. "You were just staring at the desk."

Putting forth a bigger smile, Jaune tilted his head slightly. "Don't worry about me, Ruby. I can look after myself."

She felt the muscles in her face reject the decision. Ruby returned the smile brightly. "All right, then!" Almost instantly, the smile dimmed as she adopted a softer tone – not quite meeting the eyes of the boy next to her. If he didn't want to tell her, that was fine and everything. It was his choice after all. Even so, part of her ached to know because that was just the kind of person she was. Nosy and annoying, some may say but _caring_ is how Yang once put it.

Despite it, she would respect his decision and tried her best to leave it be as she admitted shyly to her teammate, "It's kind of embarrassing to say, but I'm glad that we got to be friends and I want you to know that I'm here if you wanna talk about stuff." Gosh, this really was embarrassing. Ruby felt dots of heat rise to her skin underneath her collar and cloak as she continued, "I might not be able to say a lot of big words like Weiss but I think that just talking makes things a whole lot better…"

Silence drifted between them as Ruby trailed off, sneaking glances in the direction of Jaune to see his response.

"…or not, you know. That's fine too."

Jaune's hands fell onto the desk as he started to laugh. It was the sort of laugh that was genuine, like what Yang would sound like after she made Ruby do something stupid. Like what her dad or Uncle Qrow would sound like when she would misunderstand something. It sounded goofy and full. Honest.

It didn't stop the embarrassment from doubling though.

"W-what? Why are you laughing?"

"You were _this_ close to making yourself sound really cool," he explained between breaths, slowly regaining his composure. "But you just _had_ to muck it up, didn't you? God, you're such a dork!"

Finding her fire, Ruby shot back with bite behind her voice. As much bite as she could muster. "Says you!" Not a lot, apparently. "You're carrying your sword around like some sort of Mistrali cartoon protagonist! Who do you think you are?"

Jaune bit his lip, trying to stop himself – as futile an attempt it was. "That's quite a bit coming from little Miss Red Hood, you probably sleep with that thing on, don't you?" he said, pointing a finger weakly to her precious cloak hood.

Standing up and slamming her hands onto the wooden desk, she probably woke up Blake who was sleeping quite peacefully not a minute earlier. But honestly, that wasn't important right now. She had to clear something up! "I am _not_ little! I drink milk and my dad says I'm still growing!" Shooting a finger to Weiss, the girl was taken aback and flinched at the gesture. "Even _Weiss_ is smaller than me!"

"What the- hey!" She would understand, Ruby knew. This was justice!

"Just because the pot called the kettle black doesn't mean they both can't boil water."

"That one doesn't even make sense!" Her breath was ragged and face wild. Only then did she glance back and forth, getting the scariest sense of a past experience not yet half a week old. Dropping back down in a swirl of rose petals, Ruby let out a deep sigh of relief. She had to thank the overall commotion pervading the class. Jaune began to snigger once again. Pouting, she whined, "No fair."

Shrugging, Jaune slouched slightly, losing his earlier rigidness. The tie he was trying so desperately to get around his neck lying freely on his shoulders. He let out a breath of his own, eyelids drooping and a small smile coming onto his face. Without looking directly at her, he whispered, "Thanks, Ruby."

Ruby looked at him strangely at first, but decided to simply nod. "That's why I'm here, right? I'm your friend, after all!" She felt as though she was able to lay eyes on a realer side of her new friend – one different from the constant smiles and reassurances. Jaune inhaled sharply and muttered something underneath his breath, lips conveying a message drowned out by the rest of the room.

"What was that-?"

"Hohoho!" The jolly voice of Professor Port already began to smother the volume of his students. "Alright, class, I think I've given you enough time to talk about what your professor has in store for all of you."

A quick look back to Jaune revealed he was working on his tie once more. What was different however, was a look of an authentic concentration on his features. Eyes fixated on the fabric. Hands working like the inside of a clock. It was a vastly dissimilar sight to his ventures earlier. Though, Ruby would be lying if she were to say he looked close to actually being able to it.

Wishing him luck, her attention was brought back to their professor, who had made his way to one side of the room with his hands behind his back. "I've heard some of your guesses, and some of them were… let's say scarily accurate. _Grimly_ accurate." Students around the room mumbled confusedly, but Professor Port only chuckled to himself and shook his head in a self-satisfied manner. "Alright, children, I present to you all your _surprise!_"

He gripped something akin to a table cloth that was covered a box-like object and pulled it off with all of the energy of a showman. "Hah! Feast your eyes!" The crimson cloth fluttered away, and murmurs grew for what felt like the fifth time today as Professor Port unveiled to them the quite literal beast hidden underneath the thin fabric.

"That's a Grimm," Ruby deduced – uncaring for how obvious it was. "But…"

Weiss finished her thought off absentmindedly. "Not just any Grimm. It's an Emportusk – the equivalent to Alpha Beowolves or Ursa Majors to their respective species," she explained. "It possesses tusks that are over a dozen times stronger than their counterparts and an extra horn on their head. And if _that_ wasn't enough, their entire body is essentially encased in armour, making it hard to score any significant damage even if you were to hit in the first place." Flipping her ponytail over her shoulder, the smaller girl finished, "You don't often see them in the forests of Vale, being more native to the mountainous regions due to the rough terrain."

True to her explanation, the evolved Boarbatusk was indeed covered in an ivory shell, leaving only the slightest hints of black for where the joints would be located. It was like a walking tank if that talk could break out into a sprint. It sure was scary-looking, mostly due to the fact that she had never seen one before.

"…Well, I was close enough, right?" Ruby added. She _did_ suggest Grimm parts as the surprise earlier.

Her partner gave her another incredulous look. "Just be quiet, Ruby."

Behind them, Yang whispered as if she was enlightened. "Oh my god, I get it. _Grimly_." She slapped a hand to her forehead, the leather against skin creating a soft _plap_. She turned to Nora and Pyrrha, as if seeking confirmation. "That's _hilarious._"

"Behold! One of the rarest," the professor leant in for effect – wiggling his bushy eyebrows to emphasise, "and more destructive, creatures of Grimm that haunt Remnant – the Emportusk! I've managed to bring one in for you all to witness and observe for your first Grimm Studies lecture due to their mostly reclusive nature, and one of you lucky boys and girls will be chosen to _fight_ it." Ruby's smile faltered slightly. "So? Who's up for the challenge to prove their worth as an aspiring huntsman, eh?"

Any sound that was once being made was strangled by the throat and merciless choked the life out of, making Ruby cringe at how everyone was so against the idea.

But it wasn't like they were in any real danger anyway, as there was a licensed huntsman on standby, and within Beacon Academy itself – probably only five minutes away from the nurse's office. She contemplated standing up to swipe the chance that everyone seemed to foolishly be throwing away but as her hands twitched to push herself up – the girl began to feel the dozens of pairs of eyes watching her.

That was when she realised. They weren't scared of the Grimm. They were scared of _each other_. Of looking like an idiot in front of one another. Of failing in front of the entire class. It surely wasn't easy to go up against an evolved Grimm by yourself and if you were to succeed, you would be praised and admired.

But if you failed?

Mocked. Looked down upon. At least that's what she thought would probably happen. Ruby was sure that Yang, Jaune and the rest of RASB and PYRN would do their best to console each other if they were to go up and flop – but the mere _prospect_ of losing everything, let alone on the first day of school and dooming the rest of your high school reputation? It scared them. It scared her.

And she hated that it did. It was so dumb, she knew it was.

The energy in her hands faded, and the resolve she had built had crumbled. A sour grimace came across her lips, partly disgusted at herself. Ruby _wanted_ to put herself out there. Tell everyone that she was here – here to be the best huntress Remnant had ever seen and save countless lives. To put on display her passion and skills, her baby Crescent Rose and prove – not only to everyone watching, but herself too – that she _was_ good enough.

Memories of the embarrassment at pre-Initiation invaded her head, the worries of if people would remember accompanying them and the reluctance of her body to move.

She hated all of it.

_It doesn't matter what they think, Ruby. Just show them all what you can do!_

Shuffling to her left ceased her turmoil. Weiss uncrossed her arms, propped them onto the desk and began to rise slowly. Did she just not care? Was she that confident? In a way, a feeling of jealously rose along with her partner's figure. Looks like, Jaune was right. Ruby really was a shy, awkward and dorky girl who may have liked weapons just a _little_ too much, and was sort of insecure about her height. But it looked as though Weiss rose above all of the fears that everyone else in the class had.

People never did give any credit to how high school worked.

Hormones made people weird. Teenagers were weird. And despite being two years younger than anyone here, Ruby was just as bad as each and every one of them in that department. People didn't want to stand out. Those who did wanted to stand out the most. Some entertained the philosophy of taking second over first. Others aimed for the top at all costs necessary. Some people didn't know how to stick up for themselves. Some people were jerks.

And here Ruby was. Flat on her butt and scared to kill a Grimm at a huntsman academy. Falling into these dumb labels and stereotypes that came with school life, she felt… _ashamed_. Wondering how it ended up like this. Not even Yang – her boisterous, overconfident and outgoing older sister – made any sort of effort to showcase her ability to the rest. A quick glance revealed her half-cringing at the atmosphere, proving Ruby's ownself not to be the only one feeling that way.

Just what was she even doing? Ruby started to question if she could even do it.

"Oh, gods. I can do it… I can do it." Tearing her silver eyes away from a spot on the brown desk she was preoccupied with, Ruby looked to the source of the voice. None other than Jaune was staring at his torso in star-struck awe. Disbelief coated his rising tone. And _boy,_ was it rising. "I can do it!" He began laughing. Ruby started to look at him with her own disbelief; oh no, he started laughing.

Her eyes trailed downwards to see a tie. Not perfect or very neat, but completed and proper. Was he really this emotional about something so… small? And Ruby couldn't help but feel the second-hand embarrassment on her friend's part. _What are you doing, Jaune? _

"I knew I could do it… I can do it! Yes! Haha!"

Now _everyone_ was staring at her bench, specifically at Jaune, but Ruby couldn't help but sink into her seat a little – eyes barely coming up above the desk. They flickered to Jaune's face, wide in disbelief… and were those tears in his eyes?

Jaune was crying! The mere fact had Ruby more confused than a Zwei with a vitamin pill in front of him!

A phantom of a sob came over his laugh. "I knew I could…-"

"Well then, young one!" Professor Port's voice boomed. "It certainly is nice to see the new generation so passionate, but do refrain from crying – will you?"

Jaune froze. He dabbed his sleeve against his eye before meeting the stares of those around him. All of the stares from those around him. From Ruby's cringing to Weiss' very obvious frustration. Nora's look of glee to Ren's quiet sorrow. All the way to Pyrrha's forced smile and Yang's bemused look, making an `OK` symbol with her free hand.

Whether it was sarcastic or not, Ruby appreciated that she at least made the effort.

Even Blake was now awake, dreary golden eyes – half-closed - looking around the room with no clue as to the current situation.

Doing the best he could, the center of attention replied to everyone's silent question. "…What?"

/-/

Pulling up his combat trousers and fastening the multiple belts, the clicking and clacking of the metal hid his cursing. Not very well, mind you, but they tried.

"Stupid bloody… dumb fucking…" As stated, not very well.

He overcame the godforsaken trial set out by whatever sinister gods decided that fabric around your breathing tube was the definition of looking smart. Damn it, he was so overjoyed at the fact that he started _crying_. And just when he thought things were starting to look up, he just _had_ to open his mouth – didn't he?

Shooting the dirtiest daggers towards the limp maroon material hanging loosely from within his locker, Jaune slipped into his hoodie and tightened the pads of leather that were the extent of his protective gear. Just as he finally got it on, of course Fate and Destiny would have it so he no longer needed to wear it.

Another curse with a look of unreasonable fury slipped out from his lips.

Pulling on one of the belts on his arm bracers, the blond stared into his locker while inattentively fixing up the one opposite. An Emportusk, huh? Definitely one of the rarer types of Grimm. Sure, he had fought one or two or a _couple dozen_ before – if only because Vul was a sadistic bastard who made sure he got the `full package` when it came to Grimm.

And he could tell you, it was not a pretty ending. For whom, it depended, but the things hit like trucks and sped like bullets. Not to mention getting past their armour was a huge pain in the ass. One final pulls of the worn leather proved the fit of his left bracer to be tight and properly secure.

Jaune sighed and shut his locker, leaving within his cursed uniform. His eyes tracked to the weapon laying comfortably on the steel door of the locker adjacent. One final check of the equipment on his belts and the holsters to his sides told him there was only a final piece to the puzzle. A piece that belonged in the empty slot of his arm bracer.

He looked to the countless canisters on his belts. Though using them was less than likely, it never hurt to be prepared.

The cold steel of Crocea Mors pierced even his leather glove as the material created a satisfying click upon being inserted into its place. He had just replenished the two purple dust vials connected to his weapon and his arm, so if push came to shove those were always an option. Jaune's mind ushered against the thought, however, as revealing your hand (whether to your classmates or your enemies) wasn't _always_ the best idea.

Crocea Mors created a melancholy sheen as the blade scraped out of the sheathe. Twisting the surface back and forth, he admired the make and colour once again – something he did out of habit these days – before he put it through back into the well-kept scabbard.

It came back with a smooth chink. Jaune hardened his gaze. He was ready.

* * *

It went through with disgusting ease. Jaune widened his eyes.

What the hell did he just do?

Bent knees, arms thrusted forward, and sword pushed even further – the boy trembled. His face was past the shoulder of the faunus he had rammed his weapon through. Right palm lying flat on the pommel of the worn tool, he pushed it deeper – not know what else to do.

"I knew you could do it…" His target threw up a stream of scarlet liquid that trailed the side of his mouth, dropping the gun he held – still smoking at the barrel as it clattered onto the cobble. "I knew… you could…"

That was Jaune's wake up call.

It came back with the wet ripping of flesh, the jagged edges of the rusty blade making the removal of the weapon take much more visceral effort than when inserted. Finally, the sword was made its way out of the cage of blood and flesh it was forcibly pushed into – releasing an unholy amount of crimson splatter in its wake. Fucking hell.

Staining his blade, staining his hoodie, staining his soul; Jaune's boots stepped a few paces forward and stood up straight despite his body's plea to give in. With a thick meaty sound, the corpse of a brown-haired, brown-tailed, red-covered faunus hit the floor of the blazing village around them. Blood began to pool and coalesce like a growing plague.

Then, the second corpse slammed onto ground. This one was younger, smaller. Just as bloody. A single bullet hole that gouged out both sides of his head. White hair was sullied both black from dirt and soot, and red from…

The third body fell.

Giving into his very being's wishes, Jaune collapsed onto his knees, the damning evidence of his deed weakly falling onto the stone under him. Face falling into his hands, the boy opened his mouth – tears streaking out of his eyes.

And he screamed.

He screamed. So loud. So guttural. So raw. Raw emotion pouring out. Every emotion leaking. Rage, sorrow, disbelief, fear, frustration. Hate. Not again. _Not again._ Tattered brown cloth, stained in red. Pleas for help, promises made – promises broken. _"An Arc never goes back on their word, son. Remember that."_

Bullshit.

Vocal chords threatened to snap, the fire started to ensnare him in their smoky grasp. Bright, ominous eyes of red started to snap in his direction. Howls and roars accompanying the rising temperature. Jaune couldn't take it. He had lost someone once before, but here? Here he had the _chance. _He could have saved someone – finally – but trust him to fuck it all up.

What could he have done differently? Everything, probably. That's what he told himself. It was all his fault. Puffy sapphire eyes, glazed over by the thick smoke, peered through the fingers – liquid trailing down the skin. What about the boy's mother? The one he promised? He gave her his word that her son would come home safe. Part of him wasn't all too surprised, though. It wasn't the first time that he had lied to someone straight to their face.

Brown hair, green skirt, pleading eyes.

Empty words.

Through the pain, through the suffering – Jaune had to make a decision. His body creaked backwards, seeing a black contraption cluttered carelessly on the floor and soaked in seeping red. Jaune knew that there was a choice as his arm extended to reach for the gun, forsaking one murder weapon for another.

Pale fingers ignored the feeling of the warm blood on the grip, instead settling on the trigger. Bringing it to head-level, the choice was right in front of him. His trigger finger was itching, twitching, convulsing. All he had to do…

Was pull the trigger.

* * *

The double door leading into the lecture theatre certainly was much louder than when he had opened it the first time. Perhaps it was due to the sudden engulfing silence at his entrance making the screech of the hinges the only sound present in the room was part of it, but-

No. That was the reason for it. Jaune knew there was no real point in trying to tell himself otherwise.

Each of his steps was tracked. Laser-like focus on his movements. The very way he stood seemed to be judged by his peers. It reminded Jaune of his time in middle school, having to present a project to the rest of the class. At most, such times were only a year and a half behind him – yet it felt like so much longer. But with how he was feeling right now? Jaune came to the conclusion that he, in fact, did _not_ miss them.

"Ah, there you are, my boy," Professor Port said jovially, placed quite calmly next to the caged (yet still very much dangerous) Grimm. "I was starting to wonder if you ran off, hoho!"

Like he would. Do that and be labelled a coward for the rest of Beacon? One, he would never live it down and all the sympathetic looks from his team – gods forbid how Yang would react – would make it ten times worse. Two, being labelled as something would draw more eyes onto him, making life much more of a hassle in general. If everyone was going to slap a sticker onto him, Jaune would rather it be a more respectable brand.

"No, sir. I wouldn't dream of it."

Laughing from the belly, Professor Port nodded. "I like your spirit. Jaune, was it?" At his own firm nod, the greying man continued. "This is your last chance to back out, Jaune. Are you sure that all of your spirit isn't for show?"

The question made him think. He liked to think not. Everything he had been through and done, had cultivated a side of him that would have otherwise never seen the day. Twisting his head to the side to lay eyes on his team and PYRN, he could see that they all had a myriad of emotions on their faces. Weiss seemed annoyed, more so than usual. Blake was finally awake, too, and Ruby looked somewhere in-between a proud mother and a nervous wreck.

PYRN looked generally well-wishing. The long-haired blonde was giving a toothy grin. Was it support or amusement at his plight. Well, at least she cared enough.

Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, he could sense the Aura within the room. Tense, strained, anticipating. The feeling, despite the length he experienced it for, was electric – making his nerves burn with excitement of all things. Sapphire orbs revealed themselves once more, casted into steel.

"Sorry, sir," he said confidently, "but I think I gave my answer a while ago."

"Then let the simulated _massacre…_" Professor Port ripped from the wall adjacent a mounted battle axe, raising it over head one-handed over the lock of the cage. "Begin!"

/-/

Ruby scooted up next to Weiss, much closer than what she found comfortable.

"You think he's going to be alright?" She asked, wearily eyeballing the Emportusk stalking outside of the cage in a manner that just seemed unnatural. At the very least, she expected the Grimm to come out tusks blazing – eyes on the prize and hooves trampling. Instead, the Devil came sauntering with animalistic pride.

"Arc?" Weiss replied, not even really needing to ask but doing so anyway. Keeping her pale blue pupils on the display, she mumbled back, "I would have thought you to have much more faith in him."

"What? No, I do!" Suddenly, the girl felt the need to defend herself. "I'm just-"

"Worried?" Tearing a single eye away to meet Ruby's own, Weiss explained, "Believe me, it's not hard to tell." Slouching slightly, Ruby backed away but her partner expanded on her worries, sucked into the presentation being held. "I can't say for sure until I see more but, for now, they seem to be sizing each other up. The Grimm and Arc alike."

Metallic eyes proved the observation true. The Emportusk inched closer, moving more akin to a Beowolf than a Boarbatusk, luminescent eyes of bloody scarlet flashing dangerously. Jaune, however, was still. The most he was doing was bending his knees into a lower stance, placing his left arm in a position to draw his sword and having his free hand float above securely.

"There." Weiss whispered.

Exploding outwards with unforeseeable speeds, the Emportusk began to push off its bone-covered legs left and right, creating something of a zig-zag pattern as it charged. It was so fast that all that even Ruby could see was a blur of white trailed by red. Her Semblance didn't magically allow her to adapt to the speeds she, or other people, could reach – but after using it for years and years, the girl liked to think she had developed the ability to track all sorts of speeds.

Not this one, apparently.

But Jaune! If even she couldn't see the raging storm, how would Jaune fare? Lurching over the desk, Ruby leant in wanting to yell a warning at the top of her lungs. She was too late.

Jaune had already gotten out of the way.

A simple movement of the body, leaning into one direction and down. He didn't try to draw sword on his left forearm; instead, the teen simply pivoted on the boot with the most weight, turning to get a visual against his opponent. The Emportusk skidded to a halt, ripping up wooden floorboards and turned back to look in what Ruby could only describe as _disbelief._ Maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto the armour-clad beast but a quick look to Weiss revealed to her that she was in a similar state of mind.

Raising its tusks and singular horn high, the Emportusk seemed to look down on Jaune – despite the boy being taller – before letting out a slow stream of steal from an opening of the bone armour in the face. In contrast, the blond boy simply flattened his mouth into an ever-thinner line, yet to draw his weapon that Ruby had thoroughly observed the day they had met.

Again, no warning. The Grimm burst forward, mixing up the pattern of its charge. From a straight charge to a zig-zag. Would it charge straight or at an angle this time? The answer was shown to her before Ruby even had the chance to figure it out. Scratch that, she didn't even know what the answer was.

Though Jaune apparently did, getting out of the way again.

That by itself was puzzling. However, what confused the silver-eyed girl _much_ more was the fact that Jaune hadn't yet drawn his weapon. He held that same stance, still as a leaf on a dry, summer day – hand hovering over the hilt of that brilliant blade and knees bent low, sideways-on.

Repeating like some twisted clockwork, the cycle repeated. Vanishing charge. Dodge. Charge. Move. Pivot. Charge. No retaliation. Just movement.

She had to ask. "How is he able to see those attacks?" Ruby had faith in Jaune but she never would have guessed his forte laid within speed. It was kind of amazing.

Mouth covered by her palm, Weiss crossed arms brought forth her analysis. "How indeed… Reaction time? But if even Ruby has a hard time…" The fingers drummed on the skin of her cheek. "If it _can't_ be reaction…" Icy eyes widened. "Prediction."

"Prediction?"

"But that's insane. How could he predict movements he probably can't even see?"

From her other side, a certain raven-haired girl freshly awoken added her own voice to the mix. Amber orbs still fixed on the fight, it didn't inhibit her from talking at all. "They say experience is the best teacher. Next to pain, that is."

Weiss nodded slowly – reluctantly. "Still. The amount of Emportusk he would have to have fought. Factoring in their scarcity…"

"…It would be near impossible." Finishing off the sentence of the snow-haired girl, Ruby's head whipped back and forth between their exchange, halfway lost. "It would still bring up the question of why Jaune is seldom moving. He's barely shifted from his starting position."

Ruby knew that much to be true. As Jaune repeatedly moved, it was never with too much of a jump or dash – just leaning, pivots, and ducks. The odd roll was few and far between. Whereas she would use her Semblance to get completely out of the way of danger, she couldn't imagine what Jaune was feeling: how the serrated tusks of the Emportusk was barely scraping the peachy surface of the boy's skin. Aura or not, that would freak the hejeebus out of her.

"He's minimising movement to conserve energy. He doesn't want to get tired." Weiss removed the hand from her mouth, words forming onto her lips. "He's stalling."

Blake narrowed her eyes. "But-"

"For what?"

"For what?"

The two girls looked at each other, surprised, to which the taller one would break off in haste – getting back to the action.

_Stalling? Why would Jaune want to stall? _What could he have been waiting for? The thought churned her mind, coming to a Grimm- grim (Gah – get out of her head, Yang!) conclusion. Maybe it wasn't the fact that her friend was waiting for something. Maybe it was that he _couldn't_ do something. Was he scared? Just as she was?

Then that made them similar, making Ruby feel a little better about herself about her reluctance to fight earlier. But, wait – there was still a reason that he was down there and she was still up here. Granted, the reason stemmed from a misunderstanding, though he could have very easily just denied and explained it. Instead, Jaune chose to bear the burden even she – the team leader – didn't want to. Because of her pettiness.

She had to do something, she knew. There was a choice to be made here. The determination that had slithered away not half an hour earlier rose up once more. Placing her hands onto the brown desk in front of her, Ruby's cape fluttered as she began to push herself upwards – rose petals slowly fluttering behind her.

Facing her out of curiosity, Weiss reacted to the shuffling of her partner. Orbs of ice widened, somewhat desperate. "Wait, Ruby, what are you doing?" This was her chance. This is what she had to do. If Jaune couldn't do anything right now, then as team leader – no, as his _friend_ – this was the best she could do.

"Ruby, I swear on everything light and dark, don't do something you'll regret-!"

Even if her partner didn't agree with it. Ruby sucked air into her lungs.

/-/

Jaune would be the first to admit; this was all a mixture of luck and experience.

He'd wager a good few thousand lien on it heavily being the former, though the constant training he had been subjected to was as eccentric as it was effective.

Emportusk were found just as commonly in the Mistrali peaks as the Valean ones. And his trips to the mountain ranges of Mistral very rarely ended up with less than a broken bone. Couple that with the fact it was to the north, closer to Atlas than the mountains of Vale?

Not a pleasant time, that was for sure.

Though, it did help his footwork. Grimm normally would react the same as other members of their species, even the more evolved types. If you knew how one will attack (and boy, howdy, did Jaune know how these things attacked) you could choose the movement that would result in the least likely chance of it skewering you like some sort of kebab. So chance was involved, yes. Like choosing from a multiple-choice question.

Then again, the difference here was that one wrong answer on a test would normally result in a detention. On the battlefield, one wrong move would normally result in death. That, he knew all too well.

Another attack went blazing past his shoulder, rattling the canisters that were clipped onto his belt. Yet to draw Crocea Mors, Jaune span on the sole of his foot to keep his eyes on his opponent – as he was always taught to. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his head. He doubted it was the first one. People were probably wondering why he was taking this drawing stance but not actually following through with it.

He couldn't.

Well, more accurately, he didn't want to. Jaune was scared, not of failing – far from it. There was more chance of Yang accepting a date invitation from him than there was of him getting knocked out cold by an Emportusk. No, he was scared of showing everyone what he could do.

Openings were presented to him within the chinks of the ivory armour, black and inviting – though he doubted it was to those around him. Chinks that had been presented to him months before time and time again, their presence beaten into his brain.

That was half the reason he didn't take them.

Doing so would make people question him. Question what he could do. Question how. Jaune didn't want people to question him. It was dumb, he understood, but to make himself stand out was dangerous. He still wasn't ready.

Letting out a powerful puff of steam, the Emportusk seemed to be on its last nerve, patience worn thin. Jaune's hand twitched. He could quick draw and end it all during the next attack but doing so would destroy the cover he was wanting to build. But if he didn't he might actually take some real damage and be labelled incompetent. The correct decision was obvious, yet so hard to make. He couldn't do it.

"You can do it, Jaune!" A voice shrieked.

Jaune pulled his head to the side, showing Ruby – hands on the desk and pushing herself up onto it with a knee – fist held high and voice raised higher. "Don't worry about anything, you got this! I know you do! So go get 'em!"

To say everyone was staring at her would have earnt him the title of Corporal Crystal Clear. Hell, the Grimm probably sent a confused glare Ruby's antics. However, she kept screaming encouragement – face getting redder than her own cape. She really had a knack for this sort of thing, didn't she?

_For embarrassing herself like the massive dork she is or pushing people forward? _Part of his brain asked.

He thought about the answer. Internally, the only appropriate response seemed to be: _Yeah. Yeah, she does. _And despite how idiotic of a response that sounded, it just summed up this entire situation. The embarrassment, the fears of faliure his god damn tie being the reason for this shitty situation - it was all just so…

Non-sensical and stupid.

Facing the Emportusk head-on, Jaune's fire kindled. After a display like that, it would have been rude not to put on a show. Screw the cover. Screw questions. His job was to kill the Grimm, right? Then kill the Grimm he shall.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Jaune taunted the evolved Boarbatusk, voice tinged with mock. "Don't tell me an almighty creature of destruction like yourself is afraid after some loud noises from a small source?" he taunted, ignoring the offended _'Hey!'_ from the crowd.

While it was still mostly unknown if Grimm understood human speech, they reacted enough times to cusses to make it seem so. Hence, the pseudo-monologue wasn't to waste in Jaune's eyes. The devil now came roaring. Charging. Straight at Jaune, with no fancy zig-zags or swerves. Those insults weren't for nothing, you know.

Spinning into a ball of bone and spikes, the Grimm slammed into the wooden floor and ricocheted upward slightly, now aimed straight at Jaune's head.

No longer the statue he was before, the teen stepped forward and bounced into a sprint. Crocea Mors' sheathe span 180° at Jaune's Aura flow – his soul willing the direction. Hilt facing his shoulder, the tipped edge of the shield was placed over and past his fist ready to force its way into wherever it needed thanks to the magnetic holster fitted into his arm bracer. The speed built up resulted in a slide; Jaune slipping under the speeding Grimm and – spinning around – he inserted the point of the shield into an opening in the bone structure with a strong thrust of the arm.

The grey of his arm bracer and weapon engulfed itself in a faint, shimmering light before it exploded backwards in a force opposite to the rapid spinning motion of the beast as Jaune pushed the makeshift battering ram with a Semblance enhanced punch. The energies of the two forces cancelled each other out and the Emportusk unravelled itself and was left suspended in mid-air, plates of bone shattered and coming apart from the once impeccable formation of armour.

Jaune's right hand twitched, not for his sword but instead for the handle of a device on his leg holster.

Gun morphing in front of the eyes of everyone present, the black and yellow-painted weapon shifted from its holster state as Jaune delivered a brutal forehand whip of the gun butt – furthered by his push upward and onto his feet after the slide. The attack sent the Emportusk flying high, unable to alter its trajectory.

An easy target.

Jaune's left hand reached into a small clip-case on one of his many belts and threw up a single clip taped at the bottom with red and brown. Fire and earth – dust, of course. A single swipe of the gun in a backhanded swing ate the clip with ease before the weapon snapped back in place to take the iron-sighted shot. If these people wanted a show…

_Well, this is good enough._

Jaune pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**If it wasn't clear enough, I'm a sucker for Rule of Cool. If you were to ask me, I would say that Jaune doing something like this would be completely realistic. Then again, possibly because I have his backstory planned out pre-Beacon. I like to think I take inspiration from JoJo's Bizzare Adventure and stupidly action-packed media that attempt to explain _why _people do certain things, which may or may not also come through in my writing.**

**You ever notice a difference between how Jaune seems to speak to others and how Jaune seems to think and act by himself? A little POV thing that some of you might have picked up on. Hope I got some of those character interactions properly written, though. Some of them are doozies. **

**Also tried to tighten transitions between the flashbacks and how they both thematically and linguistically link to the current timeframe. Opinions? You tell me. Reviews are down there and my inbox is open. Some of you may also have issues with how fast Jaune seems to progress in his year before Beacon.**

**:thinking: lol**

**As always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	11. Chapter 11: Reasons For Our Roles

**Author's Notes:**

**Yo, back at it. New chapter here and stuff. Last chapter seemed relatively well-received, so thanks to all of you for sticking with me through this process. I sort of regret adding the whole XXX time to Beacon stuff I sometimes did to the flashbacks - mostly because I think it would have been more interesting to have the reader come up with the timeline themselves through exposition through internal and external dialogue/thoughts. Oh well.**

**From now on, there won't be anything like that - just as an explanation.**

**Last time, we had Jaune completely decimate an evolved Grimm that I made up on the spot in order to make the scene seem a little more action-packed in addition to adding to my own little version of Remnant. There may or may not be more additions to the world in the future, you'll just have to see.**

**Without further ado, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

There was no other choice. Nobody could have blamed him for reacting in this way. Jaune pulled the trigger of the gun he held, eyes closed and praying.

The bullet tore through the head of a Grimm mid-pounce. What kind – there wasn't enough time to tell; its dust already fuelling the raging fires around him. His hand was trembling, finger stiff and legs unwilling to work. Sat on his useless ass pathetically trying to defend himself from the inevitability of death surrounding him – the revolting stench of it not a metre away.

Luck. That was the only real reason he made the shot. He had never held a gun before, let alone received any training with it. Words like grip, safety and sights were words that he once before heard but now bounce without purpose around in his head. Just aim and pull. Aim, pull, pray.

As the bullet left the chamber, Jaune swore he saw the vibrations the motion created, rippling the ever building smoke that seemed to strangle him. The sound was loud too. Very loud. Louder than Jaune would have expected. It made him jump as well as he could without use of his legs. Thankfully, after he shot and not during it. If he had missed…

Ripping its head towards the sound, another Grimm's eyes locked onto the sight of the fearful boy. Jaune's fear was undoubtedly seeping through the air like a thick, pungent scent that would attract countless Grimm in the area in due time. Fear, doubt, guilt, sorrow, rage. All of it probably created an irresistible pull for any Grimm that caught a whiff.

An irresistible pull with Jaune at the centre.

While his body was unwilling, the embers of Jaune's resolve powered his movement. The Grimm, a black silhouette with no discernible features to the boy – only a pressure that weighed on his shoulders – began to stalk its way over to his position. In futile response, an arm was raised – the arm holding the gun – and the bloody finger that pulled the trigger once was prepared to do the same once more. What was another corpse to add to the count?

Pray, aim, fire. Jaune's finger squeezed the metal protrusion in an attempt to let rip another bullet into the skull of another victim. Within the burning landscape, only a _click_ was audible for the fraction of a second it was present. The handgun had jammed. How, Jaune didn't even know. All he knew was that he was now defenceless in Death's face.

In that moment, Jaune felt his entire existence be for naught. His life, the head for a fruitless crown. His dreams, shattered. Reality, crashing. Sure, he could reach for his sword and try to retaliate… but what would be the point? Perhaps the gods were trying to tell him something.

That _everything_ had been for nothing.

He swore the Grimm was laughing at him, despite only being a moving shadow. Laughing at his plight. At how useless he was in the end, despite the hell that he had endured time and time again.

The walking shadow floated towards him yet another step. All of the time that Vul had spent in his training. Hell, Jaune still didn't even know why the madman tried. But he was still thankful. And sorry. He didn't think a single of his lessons would help him now.

Bearing its teeth, the shadow's ivory fangs made themselves known. A dozen or so more Grimm, from all angles, caught the scent of Jaune's negative emotions. He couldn't care less. He failed the woman he gave his word to, costing the life of two others – whose bodies lay in pools of commingled blood. He was sorry.

To his family – his father, mother and every single one of his sisters – he was sorry. Maybe this _was_ the end. Maybe this was where the book to his life had the pages ripped out. He was sorry for not ever telling them he was leaving. Sorry for stealing Crocea Mors. Sorry for losing the family heirloom, despite it holding such significance to their family.

God, he was such a fucking asshole. A sorry piece of shit.

Gun jammed, will shattered, and drowned in blood; there was no other choice. Nobody could have blamed him for reacting this way. Eyes closed, arm lowered, smile present – a twisted, ugly and forced thing; Jaune did the only thing he could. Jaune gave up.

A flash of silver and red was all it took for his eyes to open once more.

Fading into ash with a single slice, the shadow was cut through like it was simply air. The other Grimm who had been attracted to his unbridled fear were similarly and swiftly taken care of by a blur of grey, followed by a streak of scarlet. Each one didn't even have the chance to howl in pain or anguish – the parts of their body required to do so blowing through the wind as another one of its brethren befell the same fate.

The reaper came to a half in front of the broken boy, holstering its weapon onto its shoulder – leaving Jaune to fear for his own life for a second. It was its voice that gave him a semblance of recognition within the figure.

"Fucking A, kid, what the hell are you doing?"

"V-Vul…?"

Vul holstered his weapon for real, making his scythe collapse (something that brought Jaune ease for whatever reason) and knelt down to place a hand on his shoulder. He recoiled slightly, most likely due to the feeling of blood seeping through the fabric of his pants, but spoke anyway. "Yeah, yeah – it's me, kid." Crimson eyes followed the crimson trail, leading him to discover the two bodies behind the teen he took under his wing. He whispered under his breath, "Ah, shit…"

Though, in spite of his vocalisation, Vul didn't seem too broken up about it. As the huntsman scratched the back of his head with his free hand, Jaune didn't feel any anger or sadness. If anything, Jaune would have said he felt pity. Towards _him._

"I was tried, Vul, I tried so hard…" Jaune hiccupped, feeling like scum of the earth underneath him. Normally, he would rather be caught dead then cry in front of the man who essentially kidnapped him but he didn't care anymore. The blond boy couldn't even muster the strength to slam his fist into the pool of blood he sat in. "But I just wasn't strong enough…"

The caped man was definitely taken aback by the sight, which Jaune couldn't blame him for. He probably looked a sorry sight. Vul didn't really look like he knew what to do. His hand scratching the back of his head trailed down to his neck before he spoke hesitantly and to the side. "Strength, huh? Someone I used to be real close with always talked about strength, always sought it. And once upon a time, I was the same."

Kneeling down, Vul closed his hand into a fist and shoved it towards the boy's chest – who was visibly weeping and buckled very slightly at the force. "But… someone _else_ told me that there was a different kind of strength. The kind of strength I never thought existed."

Through his tears, through the pain, Jaune rose his head. "What are you talking about?"

"The strength of the soul." Vul lightly punched the younger boy once more. "The strength of your will. Your resolve, kid; I can see it." His crimson orbs pierced into Jaune's own, staring into his essence. "Your resolve is strong – stronger than my own."

Once again, tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. Jaune ignored the sounds of the fires raging and the Grimm howling, choosing to lower his head and ask, "How? How can you know? I'm so weak. I'm not like my dad or you… I'm just a damn kid!" Like Vul would always refer to him as. A stupid kid who knew nothing.

Vul retracted his hand and slapped it onto his shoulder instead, giving it a solid shake. An action of solidarity in the hell surrounding them. "You're a lot more similar to your old man than you give credit for." It took a second for Jaune to process what was said. He shook his head, attempted to speak, but was ultimately unable to. "A lot more similar to others with that type of strength I know, too. So don't give up, and don't wish for death. Because there's no way for you to save those you care about when you're dead in a ditch."

Once again, questions were thrown into the air. Questions about Vul and his father, why he was being trained, strength of the soul and what the point of it all was. Well, the last was answered quite clearly. The point was to survive. To survive and live to protect and save. However, everything within Jaune was drained, leaving with barely enough strength to cry – let alone think.

So cry he did. He lowered his head, cradled it and cried. And Vul just let him. The huntsman stay knelt, staring pityingly at the boy he had trained and let him indulge in the agonies that were sure to accompany him yet again. Truthfully, the man thought that there were no such things as heroes.

Heroes were meant to be untouchable and undefeated, bringing victory and peace. Nonsense, Vul thought. A construct told to impressionable children to give them hope of a better future. To ward away the Grimm and inspire a new generation.

But there were those who existed closer to the concept than others. Those people were also closer to death than others. Their own deaths, deaths of those around them, it didn't really matter. And as the worn huntsman stared down at the crying boy – engulfed in the blood that wasn't his own – he was reminded of people past and present who were closer to heroism than anybody else.

He might not have been the best person to cultivate it but he was going to be the one to try.

For now, he would ignore the fact that a two-story tall Grimm was on its way towards the burning village on hellish horseback. For now, he would try his best to not let this kid die due to his naivety. For now, he would stay here and reveal to Jaune what truly awaited him in the life of a huntsman.

It was all he could do.

The fires around them burned just a little bit brighter.

* * *

A beautiful outward pattern of bone and blood, of which melded with the orange cascade prettily. An explosion of magnificent proportions, considering it was contained within a classroom, that had had the majority of the audience reel back and squint just to take in the sight.

Trigger pulled, arm raised, Jaune let loose a wilder smile. It wasn't everyday he could prove to himself just how far he had come. To think, one year ago, he probably would have probably been slumped into the chair of his room playing the latest edition of the Grimm Girls series on his setup; look where he was now.

Well, actually, that lifestyle sounded pretty attractive even to this day but that was beside the point.

Raining down onto the wooden floor, hard pitter-patters of ivory chunks that once made up the armoured carapace of the Emportusk created a melodic tune that currently filled the void of stunned silence. It made sense, really, seeing as Jaune seemed so reluctant to fight back for a majority of the fight – only to completely decimate the foe that held control of the field for over nine tenths of the encounter.

The silence was actually starting to get uncomfortable and no Aura sense was needed to confirm the fact. Jaune's smile dropped nervously. He was actually beginning to wonder if it was a bit too much. And while the answer was a resounding _yes,_ surely a school full of hopeful huntsmen would have expected a display akin to a Grimm and dust-fuelled firework show. Surely. Again, the answered seemed obvious to Jaune – the lack of words or reaction from the crowd being quite telling.

No. The answer was _no; _they weren't expecting it.

At least until the clapping started. Jaune turned on a foot, handgun held at his side to meet the gaze of Professor Port, clapping rhythmically and proudly. Other claps came from Ruby – soon followed by Pyrrha and Yang, who began cheering in his favour. Eventually, the crowd that had been shocked to silence not seconds prior followed suite. In the matter of, what seemed to be, a mere moment – the whole class was clapping and shouting cheers. It left Jaune in disbelief.

A disbelief that brought his smile back in full force. A dopier and embarrassed smile as he scratched the back of his head in a nervous habit. The applause came to a point where the Jaune even felt the need to wave at the crowd for no particular reason.

Shouts and cries of disbelief were evident. Many people still seemed skeptical of the whole ordeal, but took the surprise in stride. Through the cheers and yells, the voices of RASB and PYRN seemed to cut through.

"Nice one, Jauney!" Nora specifically. Both of her hands were cupped around her mouth as she whooped with her eyes shut. Considering that Ren didn't bother stopping her, Jaune took the ginger girl's hurrah with a raise of the fist. However, another quick look to Ren showed him to be in a state of distress.

Not like Jaune could do much from this distance about it anyway.

The mouths of the others also appeared to move, however, the ever rising volume made it hard to tell exactly what was said. He could see Ruby shaking Weiss animatedly while Blake seemed to just stare at him.

_Oh, well, _Jaune thought, basking in the praise. _I guess I'll enjoy it while I can._

Because while the atmosphere was on fire, all fires burnt on something. And Jaune hoped that the _something_ in this moment wouldn't come to bite him later.

/-/

"Oh my gosh, he actually did it!" Ruby yelled from her perch on the desk. She brought her knee down form the heightened surface and grabbed Weiss' shoulders. "He did it, Weiss, did you see?! I thought that he might _not_ do it, but look at him! Jaune did it!"

For the most part, the white-haired girl was just staring at the bashful blond with lost eyes – as if she didn't know what to think. "Yes…" She muttered. "He did, didn't he?"

"Wow, sis," Yang said from the row behind, still sat down with her chin in her hand. "You look like proud mom."

"Psshh," the younger girl replied, letting go of her partner and waving a hand on front of her face dismissively. "Can you blame me? That's our team leader!"

At her sister's comment, Yang slowly rose an eyebrow – one side of her mouth higher than the other as she spoke. "Rubes," she started, "aren't _you_ the leader of Team RASB?"

It was as if the word around Ruby froze – the voices of everyone else seemingly drowned out around her. "What?"

"I said that _you're _the leader of RASB, Ruby. You're a little forgetful sometimes but you can't just forget something like that." Yang lifted her head from her palm. "You good, sis?"

Laughing, Ruby brought forth a smile and laughed weakly before dropping into her seat next to Weiss. "Yeah, yeah, ha. 'Course. I was just kidding, you know?"

"Yeah…" Her sister couldn't have had a more suspicious expression on her face – born of pure concern. "Sure, Rubes."

Arms folded, the raven-haired girl to the right of Ruby narrowed her eyes slightly. "That was…"

"Unexpected?" The sudden intrusion of an elegant and full voice behind her was revealed to be from a certain redhead who smiled good naturedly at the more reserved girl of the two teams. "Yes, I do feel the same way. Though, I also feel slightly ashamed for not believing in him more."

Blake hummed thoughtfully. "It just seemed to come out of nowhere."

"Perhaps it was adrenaline. There have been many a time where I have-" Pyrrha stopped herself mid-sentence, stuttering slightly before struggling to finish her line of thought. "Also… been in dire situations… and… pushed through?"

With a raised eyebrow, the amber-eyed girl was curious, "Was there any reason that sounded more like a question?"

"…No?" Pyrrha asked once again.

"I see…" Blake half shrugged. She guessed it wasn't her place to dig. Changing the topic (to which Pyrrha seemingly appreciated), the girl continued, "I just think it was too sudden. Almost as if he changed his mind."

It was Pyrrha's turn to hum. "Well," she concluded, "_I _think we should just be happy that he did."

Spinning back to face the boy – still looking embarrassed and awkward – Blake tightened the arms across her chest and let the class continue with its roaring approval. "Sure."

Everything seemed to end there between the two teams before – unsurprisingly – Nora broke through the inter-team silence with a word of concern. "Ren?" She asked. "What's wrong?"

Both Team RASB and PYRN turned to face the boy in question. He had been quite silent, more so than expected given the current state of the entire class. Lower half of his face shoved into the palm of his hand, sweat beaded down his forehead and pink pupils were narrowed into hard slits.

"Yo, Ren," Yang called out from across the row. "You good, dude? You look like you've been _Ren-_dered speechless."

Ignoring the blonde girl's horrible play on words, the obviously troubled boy spoke through his hand – muffling his voice. "I sense… a dangerous presence. It's imminent. It's powerful. It's…"

Pyrrha urged him to finish, highly confused but intrigued by the teen's perturbed state of being. "It's… _what?_"

His eyes snapped forward. "It's here."

The door, for all intents and purposes, came off of its hinges as someone or _something_ barged through it will all the force of a fully-grown Goliath. Though what force it was opened by was a mysterious one, it was suffice to say that it most definitely was not in a good mood.

"What on _Remnant _is going on here?!"

Ruby shrunk down in her seat slightly. "_Oh, no…_"

"Oh, my-" Professor Port jumped halfway across the classroom, back against the wall – hands feeling across the surface behind him as if to look for an escape. "G-Glynda! What a surprise, lass, I didn't expect to see you here!"

The identified 'Glynda' - who Ruby knew as none other than Glynda Goodwitch from the sheer amount of Huntress Primetime magazine covers she had been on (and also the woman who had scolded her for running through the corridors earlier today) – looked as deadly as a King Taijitu while she surveyed the room.

Ruby also knew she was renowned for her discipline and strictness as much as, if not more than, her looks. And from the ripped up floorboards, guilty-looking professor and the tiniest specks of Grimm dust floating through the air, it wasn't exactly hard to tell that _something_ had gone down here.

Something that required her immediate attention.

Rambunctious echoes and been strangled to nothing above a still hush at the mere presence of the furious woman. Suddenly, the riding crop she carried under her arm seemed less like a warning and more like a very real punishment that could very really happen to anyone here.

"Peter." Professor Peter Port squeaked like a mouse. Not really the sound you expect from a man of his stature. "Report to Headmaster Ozpin's office immediately. You _will_ explain yourself."

"B-but, Glynda-"

"Did I ask you to speak?" The vice-principal of Beacon Academy reprimanded harshly.

"No, Miss Goodwitch…" Their once jovial and full of life teacher had the fight sucked right of him. From this distance, Ruby would have said that his moustache drooped along with his posture as he slunk his way out of the door. Part of the caped-girl couldn't help but feel bad for the man.

With similar intensity, the woman brought her fiery gaze to the rest of the class – making the entire remainder of the class reel back in fear of getting a similar treatment. "On that note, children, classes are over for today. You will have the remainder of the afternoon off due to… disciplinary action being required on certain members of our faculty." _Somebody_ in the addressed crowd around Ruby swallowed hard. "You will have Combat with me tomorrow in the afternoon – so make sure to come to the duelling mats equipped with the appropriate gear for the class."

That had Ruby brighten up slightly from her generally disjointed mood. If today wasn't her day, then perhaps tomorrow would. She and Crescent Rose would tear through the competition and strut their stuff there for sure.

Miss Goodwitch averted her eyes from the majority of the class, instead choosing to focus on the lonesome boy stood at the front of the hall. "Speaking off the appropriate gear – Mister Arc, to Headmaster Ozpin's office as well, if you will. You look like you need to explain yourself in tandem with your professor."

"Y-yes, Ma'am." Jaune said, no doubt as frightened as everyone else, trying to slide his way out of the class.

"Miss Goodwitch is preferable, though Professor works fine too." She crossed her arms and looked to the side slightly, "Never much liked being called something that sounded so… uptight."

_Maybe you should take a good look at how you carry yourself then! _Ruby internally deadpanned as her blond friend muttered his apologies and made his way to the described location.

Turning back to the class, Miss Goodwitch ended, "And to the rest of you – dismissed."

She slammed the door on her way out.

…

Hustling and bustling, life within the class started to pick up like nothing had ever happened in the first place. Students began to chatter amongst one another while others chose to leave with their teams – heading towards their dorms to change and get ready for the night. The clock above the wide chalkboard at the other end of the lecture hall read it to be later in the afternoon: four-ish despite class starting at nine in the morning.

Professor Port's stories sure were engaging, huh? To the point where they had missed lunch. Even if right now, Ruby wasn't exactly feeling hungry.

Taking a read of the atmosphere, Yang stretched her arms behind her heads and released a satisfied sigh before leading back on the desk in front of her. "So, you homedogs wanna blow this joint and head back to the pad?"

Both PYRN and the remainder of RASB just turned to her, meeting her satisfied grin as the blonde leant her cheek against the leather of her gloved fist.

Blake inclined her head forward just the slightest bit. "…What?"

To her inquiry, Yang wiggled her eyebrows.

"…I think what my partner is _trying _to say," Pyrrha said desperately, attempting to amend the situation, "is that perhaps you would like to head back to our room, seeing as though class is over."

The mouth of Yang Xiao-Long slowly imitated the words of her team leader, eyebrows narrowing slightly. "Pyrrha, that's a great idea!" She hung an arm over the now confused looking red-head as she let out an _'oop'_ in surprise. "Why don't you guys come over to our room for a sleepover? I mean, we had one not two nights ago – but where's the harm, ey? We're essentially _sister_ teams." She gave a wink to Ruby, who groaned loudly and obviously.

"Wait, I think I misspoke," Pyrrha tried, within the grasps of the yellow-maned dragon. "I meant _we_ go to _our_ rooms and _they_ go to-"

"We all go to our room? See, I knew you were a party girl at heart, Pyr."

Before the poor girl tried once more to fix the situation that Yang had dragged them all into, her emerald eyes caught the sight of Ruby cutting at her throat, as if to say to just roll with it. _I'm sorry, Pyrrha. Once she's like this, you might as well just go along with it, _the caped girl conveyed through eye contact alone.

Did the other understand the message? Ruby wasn't sure, but her answer fit her request quite snuggly. "Sure, why not, I guess…" Pyrrha sighed, dropping her head. She raised it a moment later with a compromise. "If we're doing this, can we at least have some time to prepare? Our room is a mess after this morning when you-"

Her words were cut short when Yang slapped her palm against her team leader's mouth. "Haha! Yeah…" Coughing into the free hand not currently wrapped around Pyrrha's shoulder and dragging her across the bench and out of the room, the golden-haired girl waved over her shoulder, "We'll see you guys at eight, cool?"

"No problem, bye, Yang!" Ruby waved back.

Similar goodbyes were said to Ren and Nora as one happily skipped along and the other was dragged to his feet, leaving R_SB sat at their row with the last of the class trickling out.

"I'll be in our room." Blake noted quite bluntly, closing her book with a thick thump and leaving with a small wave.

Weiss was the next to stand and leave in the opposite direction. "I think that I'll walk around the grounds for a while, if you need me." With a curt nod, she too stood and trotted off with the rhythmic click of her shoes.

"Alright, bye!" Ruby shouted at the back of the retreating girl, back straightening and arms waving. "I'll see you at our room later! Because we're teammates! And I'm…" The life in her faded as she slumped backwards into her crimson hood. "I'm the team leader…"

For a while, Ruby just seemed content like that. In a state of tranquillity, comforted by the surrounding presence of her familiar red cloak, until she was the last remaining person in the class room. The words of her sister continuously bounced around in the back of her head. _'Aren't you the leader of Team RASB?'_

Well, _yeah._ She was. There was a whole ceremony and everything. Professor Ozpin bestowed the title to her like a king or queen would do to a brave and noble knight in front of loads of students and teachers alike! Even Jaune… even _Jaune_ congratulated her, telling her she deserved it.

So why did she forget?

Just like that, in the heat of the moment, she relinquished her duty and put the tag onto someone else. Why? Being the leader of her own team was amazing, yet – so easily – she gave it to her friend in a heartbeat.

"Gahhh!" Ruby shot up in her seat, ruffling her own head of red-tipped hair with her own two hands and kicking her legs underneath the desk.

Until she hit her knee on the underside of the wooden contraption.

"Owch! Ahh…" The girl rubbed the fabric-covered skin vigorously to ease the pain, regretting letting her more childish emotions get the better of her. Itty-bitty tears started to build at the sides of her silver eyes. "Dumb desk, dumb Yang, dumb knee…" Muttering underneath her breath until the tingling of her joint was gone, Ruby decided to get some fresh air of her own.

She pushed herself upwards with her own two hands, using the desk that had wronged her poor knee for leverage, accompanied by a burst of rose petals coming up with her ascension. A newfound expression of determination decorated her face.

"Yeah," Ruby encouraged (herself). "Fresh air sounds pretty good."

Wiggling her way out of the bench that her entire team had once been sat on, the girl wondered if the dorm rooftops were open right now.

/-/

That had been an experience.

Jaune stumbled down the corridors of Beacon Academy, haphazardly remembering the way to his dorms as he tried to recall the past hour or so of his time. Firstly, Professor Ozpin's office could only be accessed via a very long elevator. He was only drawing attention to that fact because, under normal circumstances that would have been a pretty sweet feature.

The boy slammed against a nearby wall, catching himself before he fell. That elevator ride had not been under normal circumstances.

It was only probably a minute or two but it certainly did not feel like it. Have you ever been in a situation where you just wanted it to end? You're constantly uncomfortable, feeling like at any moment your name could just be uttered and you would have no idea what to say – even if your life depended on it. Heat rising under your collar and sweat pooling in your palms as the tension rises to heights you thought the skies could never reach.

That was what he felt like for the duration of the minute-long elevator ride.

Miss Goodwitch, who he now knew as the _vice-principal_ of Beacon and not the _secretary_ (hoo boy, was he sure relieved nobody ever found out _that_ was his first impression of the terrifying lady), had stared down the two other people in the confined space with high amounts of raw prejudice. Thankfully, most of it was aimed at his poor professor – who on more than one occasion attempted to, not so subtly, hide behind the younger man – but you could say Jaune was caught in the crossfire.

And was there fire. He might not have been able to see it but it was certainly there. Thankfully, Professor Ozpin had been the saving grace to the two other men in his office – calming down his stern vice-principal with promises of discipline on Port's part and an explanation from himself.

Once again, the silver-haired headmaster had a way with words that seemed to wrap the whole ordeal with a neat little bow, ending the entire meeting in an hour after Miss Goodwitch screamed at Professor Port for over three quarters of it. Jaune had an inkling he wasn't supposed to be there for that, however was understandably too scared at the time to excuse himself. Ozpin himself seemed quite amused at the whole matter before excusing himself – something about wanting to go on a walk.

What a strange guy.

"I'm back…" Jaune moaned, leaning against the door frame for support as he waved his scroll across the door lock to the entrance to RASB's room.

"Welcome back," replied the one and only person inside the room. Her voice was flat and almost sarcastic as she laid on the top bunk – her bunk – of the joint venture they called a bunk bed. In her hands was a book with two fireball-looking objects trying to chase the other's trail.

Looking around the room, there was no sign of Weiss or Ruby – despite it being past five at this point. "You know where Weiss and Ruby are?" Jaune asked, deciding to put his thoughts into words.

A second of silence, followed by the flick of a page. Amber eyes peaked over the hardback cover of her book as Blake addressed his question. "Weiss said something about going around the grounds, as for Ruby… I don't know."

"Ah, okay," he replied, clicking his tongue.

"And Yang said PYRN's hosting a sleepover tonight. Eight o'clock."

A sleepover? "A sleepover? Huh." Huh. Another one so soon? For whatever reason, Jaune wasn't exactly buzzing at the idea of having to do take part in such an activity.

Blake returned to her book, content with leaving the conversation as that. Despite the fact that she and Jaune had seemingly settled their differences during Initiation, he just couldn't feel comfortable around her. When they were with Ruby – or at least Weiss – it was more bearable but, right now, with the two of them alone?

Jaune coughed awkwardly.

Awkward was an understatement.

The blond boy, still clad in his combat gear, pointed a thumb outside their room. "I'mma just go find _them…_"

"…Yeah." Was Blake's brief and apt response.

Inching his way out of the room, Jaune slowly pulled back the door, "Are you good to just – you know."

"…Yeah."

"Cool. See you later?"

"Yeah."

The door shut with a light click, leaving Jaune to slump against the other side of the white surface – breathing out a single heavy sigh. Cerulean eyes drifted onto the door opposite to their own – where he'd be sleeping tonight – Team PYRN's room. He really had to sort things out with Blake, though he knew inside that it wasn't going to be as easy as when he did the same with Yang.

Jaune shook his head and continued down the hallways of Beacon Academy, looking for his other teammates in a vain attempt to rid his mind of the thought.

/-/

"Woah…" The sight was breath taking.

On top the dormitory roof, looking out into Vale proper as the sun gradually lowered herself below the horizon to give way to the shattered visage of the moon. Stepping through the double doorway, led up to by a spiral staircase that had Ruby feeling as tired as was enraptured by the vast landscape beyond the academy, it felt as though the winds had suddenly picked up – causing her red cloak to flutter like a crimson wing behind her.

Moving forward, Ruby put an arm above her face to stop the winds from harassing her eyes too much and ended up at the very end of the building, where there was a steel handrail that prevented her from going any further. As the winds subsided, the ability to truly take in the view finally gave itself to the girl.

Beacon's pathway, mighty pillars planted at both sides to pave the way for future generations of huntsmen. The statue of unnamed huntsmen and huntress – pillars in their own right – standing atop the corpse of a Grimm as inspiring as it was awesome. The docks ended at a huge drop off, leaving the sight of the city of Vale in the far distance but still a feature of the sight that drew her attention.

With the sun slowly leaving her post, a magnificent shade of golden orange came – not built to last, but Ruby's silver eyes would make it linger for as long as they could.

"Enjoying the view, I see?"

"Eep!" Thank the gods that there was a metal railing at the edge of the building because, if not, Ruby would have splatted down at the bottom in a bed of rose-petals that were red for the wrong reasons. She put both palms on the cold steel and span around, closing her eyes and craning her head away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't allowed to be here, please don't give me detention – it's my first day!"

The voice chuckled softly, the sort of chuckle that made you feel at ease – like a wise, old grandpa. "Well, if you weren't allowed to be here, then the door wouldn't have been unlocked now – would it, Miss Rose?"

"Actually, yeah, that makes sense…" Ruby whispered to herself, opening her eyes. Her head came forward gingerly to meet the hazel gaze of a silver-haired man – cane in one hand, mug in the other. "P-Professor Ozpin? What are _you_ doing here?"

Tapping his cane once, the headmaster inclined his head forward slightly with a raised eyebrow. "Last time I checked, Miss Rose, this _was_ my school. What kind of headmaster would I be if I didn't… make the rounds – as they say – every now and again?"

"Yeah, that makes sense too… I think?" Ruby closed one eye, thinking about it. Unfortunately, the once guilty-looking girl didn't have too much time to as she jumped back slightly. No-one could really blame her for being surprised at the sudden presence next to her after looking away for a singular moment. "Wh- how did you just-"

Ozpin looked out onto the horizon – the view that had Ruby star-struck moments before – and said quietly. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Calming herself down, letting the sudden unnatural peacefulness wash over her, Ruby swivelled on her boot and let herself enjoy the sight of Beacon and Vale once more. "Yeah," she whispered, confirming something to herself. "It is."

A low and brief hum came from the tall man next to her. The wind picked back up slightly, making his silver strands of hair bristle. Ruby wondered idly how old Ozpin actually was, because parts of him – like his stature and skin – made the man seem quite young, however, his hair and overall aura exuded something ancient.

Was that rude? Ruby didn't think it was rude.

"Is there something on my face, Miss Rose?"

_Crap!_ "Gah-! Nope. Nope. Nothing, sir." Ruby shifted her gaze back immediately. Her dad always taught her that staring was rude, yet here she was – making a fool out of herself in front of the headmaster of Beacon Academy. She really was out of it today.

"Then, perhaps, is there something on your mind?"

Something in Ruby tightened. It felt like it was her heart, but she thought it was her soul. "No, sir," Ruby said slowly, a smile coming onto her face as a weak mask. "Nothing at all."

"Miss Rose, if you're going to lie to me – I'd ask you to at least make it convincing. Then again, if I had the time to ask you that, I would prefer to ask you not to at all." Ozpin held a soft smile, trying to keep the girl from avoiding the situation any longer.

Ruby chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "Ehehe… Guess it's pretty obvious, huh?"

"Perhaps," the man conceded, "but I have retained my position as headmaster for as long as I can remember. You have not been the first to try shun the problems looming over you." Ozpin, still not looking at his student, urged further, "What is on your mind, Miss Rose?"

A sharp intake of air came through her teeth as Ruby grabbed the railing and let herself fall back, balancing on the back of her black boot heels. "It's about my team."

"Your team?"

"Well, actually, no," Ruby corrected herself. That made it sound as though she was blaming her teammates. No, that wasn't the problem at all. The problem was about- "Me. It's about me."

The headmaster nodded silently, slowly taking a sip from his mug before asking, "You, Miss Rose?" He sounded curious, but Ruby could tell it was an act. For some reason, she felt as though the words that had yet to leave her mouth had already been heard by the suited man next her.

In spite of it, Ruby shook her head slowly and pulled herself forward, asking not only Professor Ozpin – but also herself. "Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you make me team leader?" She let go of the steel bar in front of her and turned around, eyebrows drooping but a smile still present on her face. "Why make _me_ the leader of RASB? I'm not the strongest," Images of Jaune taking down the Emportusk with masterful ease. "I'm not the smartest," she wasn't even the one to come up with the plan to defeat the Giant Nevermore at Initiation; that was… Jaune. "Gosh darn it, I'm not even the shortest!" Ruby's expression turned to one of almost pitiful desperation. "So, why _me,_ Professor Ozpin? Why did you choose me?"

Silence. No more words from either party were said at her plea for reason. There had been many moments of silence today, but this one was the only one that _hurt _Ruby. It was as if Professor Ozpin didn't know himself – his decision being on a whim, maybe even a mistake. The thought alone made Ruby's heart ache.

All this time, she had been overjoyed at the fact she was made team leader – never really questioning if she actually deserved it. A distant voice told her in the back of her mindscape, _'You deserve it, Ruby.'_ It was Jaune's voice. A genuine voice. He truly thought she was the right pick – but _why?_ Why did she deserve it more than him? Why now did she question herself? Why did it bother her so much?

"Why?" Ruby sounded on the verge of tears, her quiet voice accompanying the whispers of the wind atop the roof.

Finally, Professor Ozpin spoke, "To you, Miss Rose," he said after a breath, "what makes a leader?"

"W-what?" The man had answered her question with a question; forgive her for being taken off guard.

"Qualities, Miss Rose, qualities. Aspects. Talents. Traits." The silver-haired man refused to look at Ruby's confused expression, still choosing to admire the sight of his school and the city as he emphasised once more, "What do _you_ think a leader is?"

Thinking that she might as well go along with it, seeing as though Ozpin probably knew what he was doing and she was in a complete state right now, Ruby twiddled her thumbs and rolled her head around as she thought of what to say. "Um… A leader is someone who can lead…?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow, which Ruby caught despite the man still not turned to face her. "I-I mean, they're someone strong! Dependable." She began to nod her head as the list began to form itself in her mind. "People can rely on them to do the right thing. Someone who can make decisions and can think ahead…"

Ruby raised her head abruptly, "I think?"

"I see." Professor Ozpin finally took his gaze away from over the balcony to Ruby herself. Mug in hand, he nodded wisely. "In many ways, I understand why you would say some of those things. But." The 't' was heavy. "Would you like to know what I think of a leader?" The caped girl nodded, any other action just seeming inappropriate or disrespectful to the headmaster's line of thought. "A leader _can_ be strong. They _can_ be intelligent. They can also be dependable. These aspects can be part of a leader but – to me – they do not _make_ one."

"To me," standing up straight, the silver-haired man let the winds whistle behind him – carrying his words further. "A leader is someone who can sacrifice themselves. They put themselves after those who they lead. They are willing to do whatever it takes, no matter the cost. Tell me, Miss Rose, what do you see in Mister Arc?"

"W-what? He's just a friend!" Ruby defended quickly, waving her arms in front of her face – ignoring the heat under her cloak.

Once again, Ozpin raised an eyebrow with a look of – one might have said – amusement. "I _meant_ as a leader."

"Oh. Right. Of course you meant that, haha…" Ruby began to rub the back of her neck yet another time. "I mean – I dunno…"

"Don't you?" Questioned Ozpin, voice taking on a slightly higher register. "He is the cause of your troubles, is he not?"

"Huh? Noooo…" In response to Ozpin's lack of response, Ruby acknowledged her defeat, "Yeahh…" Sighing, she pressed her arms flat on the metal railing and slouched. "He just seems like he would do way better than me as the leader of RASB, you know? He's powerful, smart, cool, calm and collected, cu- cool."

"You already said that."

"Yep," Ruby agreed, popping the 'p'. "He's just real cool."

"I see." Ozpin didn't sound very convinced but didn't press any further on the matter.

"I just don't see why you would pick," standing up, the girl gestured very vaguely to herself – making an _'ehhhh'_ sound as if to emphasise. "Over someone like _him_."

"You say these things, Miss Rose, but it appears as though you fail to see my point," Ozpin said, tapping his cane onto the ground once more. "I want you to ask yourself if Mister Arc has ever fit _my_ definition of a leader. Mister Arc has very rarely shown the want to put himself into the jaws of danger for the sake of others."

Ruby seemed lost, words coming out but barely. "But in class, with the Emportusk-"

Easily interrupting the girl's flow, Ozpin continued, "I ask again – did Mister Arc willingly put himself in that position? And, in any case, I doubt he was ever in any real danger; while not exactly the brightest fellow, Professor Port isn't as much as a pushover as he may seem. That man would never let harm come to any student under his watch."

"What about in Initiation where-"

The conversation was a Grimm hide and Ozpin's words were like Crescent Rose as the man cut through once more to drive his point forward, "Where, when he had the ability to, Mister Arc sat back and devised a plan – handing you the most precarious role, to which you accepted without hesitation?"

Her words died on her tongue. Strictly speaking, Ruby knew that was true. Even when given the most important and most dangerous part of the plan, the girl bore the weight on her shoulders and risked her own life to do what had to be done. But Jaune wasn't like that. It's not like he was a _coward_, not at all – Ruby thought. If push came to shove, she was sure that the boy would throw himself into the midst of things to get the job done.

But, then again, that was different to how Ruby would do things. If Jaune would do so when push came to shove, Ruby would have done so before the push even happened. That was just who she was. It was the Ruby who came in to defend Yang at school for the smallest of things despite being two years younger and a whole lot weaker at the time. It was the Ruby who wasn't afraid to speak her opinion and _do_ something about the wrongs in the world.

It was the Ruby who would shout in front of the entire class, despite her crippling social fears, to help encourage her friend who only _seemed_ like he was in trouble.

"And I'm not doubting Mister Arc's capabilities," Ozpin added, seemingly satisfied with the changing facial expressions he could see as Ruby unravelled her own problems. "I'm sure that, if things had turned out differently, you two would make wonderful team leaders in your own rights. However, as it stands, I believe that you _are_ the correct choice of a leader for Team RASB. One, because you are a fearless young lady with a soul of self-sacrifice and two…"

A softer glint glossed over his hazel eyes. "Because it would mean I would have to come up with _another_ name for the team."

Funnily enough, Ruby found herself giggling at that. "Thanks, Professor Ozpin." She truly was thankful. If she was the leader, that didn't mean Jaune still couldn't have a cool title too. Something like: 'Chief Advisor' or 'The Strategist'. _Gods Jaune really was right… _the girl thought to herself, cringing. _So dorky…_

"It was my pleasure, Miss Rose. In the future, please do try not to hold yourself in such a low regard, I don't believe it to fit your profile." Ozpin span around, making his way back to where he came up from. "Have a good night, Miss Rose."

Ruby pulled a funny face, mouthing the words to herself, "_Good night?_" She turned back to the sight of Vale proper, the city that was once basking in an evening glow. "But it's only…" The caped girl was met with the sight of a city – not encased in orange, but a dark blue. "It's night?" That's weird. Maybe it was a little more than that, seeing as it was early evening by the time she even got up here and now it was early _night_.

Taking her scroll out of her skirt pocket, the in-built clock read a quarter past seven. Two hours had gone by like it was mere minutes. Not only that, but Ruby had only realised that moments after Professor Ozpin had left. She would have said that Professor Ozpin was an engaging individual – and that wasn't to say that she _didn't_ think that; the headmaster of Beacon was actually really awesome – but it just seemed like it was more than that.

"Oh well," Ruby shrugged, stuffing the metallic device back into the dark depths within her lady pockets and smiling to herself. "Guess I'll just get ready for the sleepover." And while she said that, the girl was actually quite content with looking up at the peaceful stars above that surrounded the broken beauty of the moon, letting the fading winds brush up her cloak just a little.

/-/

She brushed back her skirt from underneath her as she sat on one of the many, many benches in the Beacon courtyards. The night sky above had proved her walk to have taken much… _longer_ than she initially expected.

Weiss Schnee was a very picky person. She hated to admit it, but the matter of fact was that it was just a true fact. From a young age, she would always make it hard for the people around her to please her. Whether it was due to nurture or nature, it didn't change the fact that – looking back on it – she felt bad for the people who always tried to keep up with her demands. Her butler, Klein and the various colleagues of his would try their best the please her. Picky with clothes, picky with food, picky with toys; Weiss Schnee was a picky person.

But recently, she's started to pick at herself.

In her hand was a drink, bought from one of the nearby vending machines for a feeble price. Weiss Schnee was a picky person, but she liked to think she had grown out of that phase of her life – even if, in reality, she hadn't.

A soft _cshhik _as she pulled back the lid of the beverage and daintily put her lips at the edge, taking the warm liquid down her throat. Pulling back with a raised eyebrow, she examined the container label – reading "Red-E Coffee!" – with fascination and said to nobody in particular, "Hm. I never knew they now sold _warm_ drinks in vending machines."

"That's the magic of dust for you – you know, if it existed." Someone said from next to her. "But I would have thought that you of all people would have understood that the most."

Sighing lightly, Weiss closed her eyes in an exasperated manner. "So you know of my heritage, then? Here I thought you had no idea who I was."

The voice laughed awkwardly, the sort of forced and nervous kind of way, if Weiss had to describe it. "Honestly, it's kind of embarrassing but, I didn't at first. After initiation though, when I saw you use all that dust in your weapon – namely that special black type of gravity dust – and the emblem at the back of your outfit, it wasn't hard to piece together after a while. They don't sell that kind in the stores, you know."

She did know. It was made specially for her by the best of the best and would be shipped to her monthly at Beacon, at least that's what they told her back at the estate. Weiss opened her eyes to roll them, their light blue shine piercing the dim night air.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on someone, Arc?"

"She did," Jaune Arc admitted quite tensely, chuckling all the while. "This kinda feels familiar, huh? At least this time I did actually sneak up on you. Sorry about that." Weiss knew that the boy was referring to just before Initiation, within the locker rooms, where he had done much the same while she was conversing with Pyrrha. "Mind if I sit here?" Quite fiercely, Weiss debated with herself internally – much to the dismay of the standing teen, who complained, "Come on, really?"

"I suppose that this _is_ a public space and that nobody is currently occupying the area next to me."

Jaune followed through on her offer, whispering under his breath. "Sure is a fancy way of saying _yes,_ isn't it…" It came out more as a statement than a question and unfortunately was loud enough for the heiress to hear.

With intensity, Weiss dared, "What was that?"

"Nothing!" The blond boy next to her straightened in his seat for a brief second, very real fear exuding from his general presence. Jaune was still in his combat gear, and her in her school uniform – yet, here he was, showing a completely different side of him. Without a backbone, awkward and dopey in, dare she say it, an endearing kind of way. And despite it, he was still making her feel so…

Weiss sighed again, pushing her back against the cool bench – letting the sensation seep through her school blazer. Her eyes found themselves behind her eyelids once more as she questioned the blond, "Is there a certain reason you're here, Arc?"

A second passed. After it, Jaune answered her softly, a question to a question. "Is there a reason you keep calling me 'Arc?'"

The question stunned Weiss, the warmth of the coffee in her hands the only thing that reminded her that she had to reply. Honestly, it never really occurred to her _why_; it just felt natural. Right. That in itself brought on questions of its own. Was it a negative stigma? A sort of bias? If that was the case, then based on what? Sex? Heritage? Class? Was Weiss being _discriminatory? _

Being compared to her father in that way scared Weiss much more than she would have liked to admit.

Her feelings were worn on her sleeve – or rather, her actual face – as Jaune laughed it off. "I don't really mind," he cemented, "I was just wondering."

Weiss took a sip of her drink. It was half to collect herself, half to hide the how thrown off she was thanks to his line of inquiry. As she finished, the white-haired girl replied to the best of her ability. "There's no real reason," she said, putting one leg over the other, "I apologise if that's not the answer you were really looking for."

"Like I said, it's fine, so don't worry about it." Jaune seemed content with that being the end of that line of conversation, letting the two sit in a not so comfortable silence. There was nothing _wrong_ with him, at least not that Weiss had yet experienced, it just seemed tense. Perhaps it was her own feelings, or something on his own part but like this, Weiss felt the urge to just leave. She almost did too, uncrossing her legs to stand until Jaune's voice filled the silence once more. "It's your turn."

Weiss blinked once. Another time. Her head turned slowly next to her to meet the expectant, somewhat brazen, look on the other's face. She replied with what she that was appropriate, "What?"

Seeing her confusion, Jaune thankfully decided to expand on his sudden statement, "I shared something that was bothering me. It's your turn."

"You said that you didn't mind," answered Weiss, who raised an eyebrow.

Jaune shook his head, hazy blue eyes seemingly hiding beneath the lack of light in the courtyard. "I said that I didn't _really_ mind. A part of me still found it offensive," he said almost proudly.

"Erk." As he should, really. The stiffness in Weiss's muscles left, leaving her to slump back into the bench. "I see…" she admitted, not exactly apologising for it. Though part of her _was_ curious. "Was I truly that easy to read?"

"I mean it was just a shot in the dark, really," the other shrugged casually. "Looks like I was right on the money, though."

That he was. And while Weiss wouldn't verbal confirm it, Jaune truly did manage to catch her at an awful time. Her gaze drifted to the drink that she cradled in her own to hands, taking comfort in its heat as the night continued to dive deeper. In truth, Weiss felt very complicated.

More complicated than when she decided to prove herself to her father and leave the Schnee estate. Weiss Schnee was a picky person and recently, there have been parts of her that have been put into question. She had once thought that she would have made a fine team leader, though such a spot was taken by her partner Ruby Rose – a girl with a powerful and strong moral center with the ability to pull people together, much more so than herself. It was of no consequence, Weiss told herself, perhaps she would get her chance later.

Said chance appeared later in the form of Professor Port's class. She had the stage to put forth her skills, like a talented singer who had spent many an hour practising on her lonesome finally getting the chance to perform. Yet that too was taken from right under her nose by none other than the boy that was now showing concern for her.

What even was this chance? Weiss liked to think it was the chance to prove herself to… well, _herself._ Just as all her life she was picky, all her life she had been told what she could and couldn't do. Becoming a huntress was too dangerous, they said. Becoming a huntress was not the 'Schnee way', whatever on Remnant _that_ even meant. And while she had proven herself against the Arma Geist – the possessed suit of armour she beat to convince her father to send her to Beacon – the lingering need to prove herself again remained.

_Perhaps it was a fluke, _the back of her mind told her. It was childish, she knew, but the feeling persisted.

Weiss thought herself intelligent, yet relied on the plan of another to defeat the Giant Nevermore. She thought herself strong, but didn't have the will to immediately volunteer herself to fight the Emportusk from earlier in the day. She doubted herself and let that doubt manifest into something larger. Perhaps her father was right.

And… "I'm scared," she confessed.

Internally, she was screaming at herself. Why reveal something like this to someone she barely knew? The answer, as illogical as it sounded, was that a semblance of her thought that he of all people would understand. "I'm… afraid that I'm not good enough. And that certain people were right about… certain things. About me." Her speech was in fragments and her mind was a mess. Weiss felt the need to clutch her face but was prevented from doing so thanks to the beverage taking refuge in her palms.

It looked though Jaune wasn't expecting her answer. Weiss didn't really blame him; it was much more personal then what it probably should have been. To his credit, though, the boy shifted in his seat and spoke with caution – most likely afraid of stepping into territory that he wasn't supposed to.

"You know, I have a father…" The blond paused to weigh his words.

Weiss took advantage of the situation, most likely to ease the discomfort on her own part. "Really?" She said with completely sarcastic disbelief.

Dark blue eyes widened, before they understood that it was a joke and that – believe it or not – Weiss _was_ capable of jokes, as proven to Ruby earlier in class. Jaune chuckled, putting a hand to the back of his head, "Hard to believe, I know." The same hand placed itself in front of his face, open wide and inviting his gaze. "But he never thought that I could be a huntsman. Maybe he was scared on my behalf, I realise that now, but back then it always made me mad. "

His eyes narrowed, their hazy blue surfaces obscured even further as Jaune squeezed his hand into a fist. "I thought to myself: _'What am I going to do to prove him wrong?'_ and I ended up doing something really stupid." The intensity in his stare dissipated, something more melancholy overcoming the boy's features. Interestingly, the sheathed blade on his forearm seemed to reflect the moonlight quite prettily while he spoke.

"I don't think I regret what I did, and I don't think I've proven my old man wrong yet but…" Jaune turned to face Weiss, eyes meeting and something of a mutual understanding coming over the two, "I'm not going to stop just yet. As far as it takes, I'll walk the distance. I didn't let the weight of other's words burden me to getting where I am now and – from what I can tell – you didn't either. So why let it start now, right? Doesn't really make sense."

Time passed and a recognisable goofy grin came across the blond boy's face. The previous seriousness overwhelmed by a blanket of uneasy teenage emotion. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I just feel like you would get it better than anyone else."

"Believe me," Weiss let free a small breath of air. "I do." She understood much more than the feeling, that was to be sure. It was almost frightening how well she understood.

But Jaune was right. Such trivial worries coming over her now of all times was simply – for lack of a better term – stupid. And if the boy next to her had experienced something even remotely similar to her, yet still powered through and got to Beacon and thrived, who was to say that she couldn't do the same?

The girl brought the metal can in her hands to her mouth and pushed her head back, downing the entire drink in a single motion. Jaune was startled by the powerful action and voiced his concern once more, "Weiss, you alright?"

Another breath of relief, for much more than just drinking an entire can of coffee. It was relief of a weight being taken from her shoulders. "I've never been better." Weiss stood, placed her finished can in the bin and began to walk back in the direction she came. However, before she left, she turned and smiled to the boy still sat on the bench – looking a mix of confused and surprised, "Thank you for the pleasant conversation, Jaune."

As she left the way she came, heading back to Team RASB's dorm room to prepare for the sleepover, Weiss heard mumbles of bewilderment behind her, to which she could only smile smugly at. Because Weiss Schnee was a picky person.

But that coffee wasn't half bad.

/-/

The forest life was still. Save for the occasional bush bristling or the odd bird jumping from the branch, the system seemed lacked movement. It was mid-day, the sun was shining above the canopy of the Mistrali trees and bursting through the scarce openings it had to offer.

It wasn't the first time Nicholas was walking through the forest by himself, and it certainly wouldn't be his last.

At least, that would have been the case if he was actually alone. This was the part of the forest where birds regularly roosted. Very rarely would they be taking off from trees at this time as mothers would have left for food a while ago. Additionally, the lack of winds certainly made it weird for bushes to be quivering in the dry air. Really, there was only one answer to this.

He didn't really have to say it. It was pretty obvious. But honestly, as his worn and used laced leather boots came to a halt, he felt the need to say, "Make it easy for all of us and come on out, will you? It's quite rude to spy on someone that's just trying to make his way through the forest." No response. Nicholas shook his head, sighing a rough sort that came from the throat. "Seriously? I'm not just saying that because I'm paranoid." Instantly, his voice took a hardened edge, feeling his eyebrows come further down his face.

"I'm saying it because I know you're there."

Eventually, a figure came out of the green covers surrounding the forest path. Then another. And another. Until there were at least a dozen people who had unveiled themselves from their posts. Decades of experience told him that he was being followed, but Nicholas would be a lying man if he said he knew there were _this_ many people on his trail.

A mix of builds, genders and races stood imposingly from all angles. They appeared on the paved path in front and behind him while others slowly grew closer, circling him until there was no way the older man could escape. Each one was clad in assortments of ripped gear and equipment. Some wore belts completely covered in ammunition to fuel the devices they gripped in their hands while others seemed content with a blunt or sharp weapon of their choice.

_Bandits,_ Nicholas knew – no real emotion gracing his features. It was strange, he thought, seeing as though the most he had on him was a well-kept sword and a dusty old rucksack filled with the bare essentials. Was business that bad these days?

"Impressive, old man," a young woman seemingly at the head of the rag tag group noted – somewhere in the middle of both genuine recognition and sarcasm. Her auburn hair was cut short and messy but still retaining a sharpness while her outfit was ripped and torn, dark red pants rolled up to the thigh on one of her legs.

She really just screamed edgy.

Thankfully though, none of Nicholas' daughters ever really went through that sort of phase so the woman greeting him was just a nice reminder of the little things in his life.

His inattentiveness didn't go unnoticed as the woman narrowed her pale teal eyes in offence. "Hey, you haven't croaked have you? You still with us, right?" Poor girl probably had her pride hurt at the fact he wasn't really paying attention. Back in his prime, Nicholas wouldn't have let anything distract him from the matters at hand but having eight children to take care of did do things to person. Sadly, it didn't stop the other dozen or so bandits from laughing at the girl's jab.

"Not yet," The ragged blond man said, hand coming onto his hip – just above where the hilt to his blade lie. "Not yet. This old man still has a job to do. That job needs me to get to the West Mistrali Port by sundown so if you'll excuse me – I'll be on my way." Other hand to the strap of his rucksack, Nicholas made the attempt to do just that, only to be stopped once more by the very same woman.

"Sorry, but it looks like you're going to have to call in a sick day…" She began to walk forward, stepping over shrubbery and inadvertently giving every one of her colleagues the courage to do the same. Nicholas felt his blood burn slightly hotter at the sight of her hands coming to her belt, retrieving a device that slowly shifted into a circular, blade-like weapon. "Because, you ain't going anywhere."

Cautiously, Nicholas turned his head left and right to examine the bandits, grasping at their weapons and muttering to each other cockily. He met the teal gaze of the woman in front of him, their height difference just now coming into clear comparison. "Are you the boss here?" His hand crept downwards towards his own hip.

"Nah," she denied, smirking loosely. "I don't even think I'd wish to be. But our _actual_ boss wants you – dead or alive – so, try not to take this too personally."

"Trust me," Nicholas replied, leather gloved hand grasping onto the hilt of his weapon – Avalon – with a solid _chink_ of steel. "I won't."

"Hyyaah!" The brown-haired woman lunged forward with her weapon, extending her right arm in an attempt to catch his armoured torso.

Silently, Nicholas had yet to draw his sword, instead using his left palm to push the offending limb away and to his right – leaving the man to sidestep onto her outside and drive a hard knee into her exposed gut. The reaction was a natural splutter, her mouth setting free a violent wheeze as the air was ripped from her lungs. Even so, the blond man couldn't help but be slightly relieved at the sight of a grey-ish swathe came up moments after his attack.

Too late to actually lessen the immediate effects, of course, but the woman did seem to possess Aura.

At the same time, the darker implications also seemed to dawn themselves onto him. The regular, run of the mill bandits wouldn't have their Aura unlocked. Doing such would require high amounts of mental strain, naturally, and only someone who had fully mastered the ins and outs of the mystical energy actually had the potential to unlock it for another.

With a furrowed brow and a low growl, Nicholas set free Avalon from her cage and tossed it in the air with the singular motion of the draw as he grabbed the girl by the collar and tossed her with all of his own strength into an unexpecting couple of bandits. They fell like dominos to a finger, collapsing underneath the force of the speeding human projectile.

Nicholas honestly doubted that she was out for the count, but sending a message during battle was one of the key paths to achieving victory.

He sighed, putting forward his palm and letting the leather hilt of his light-blue blade meet his leather glove with a soft and easy _plap. _Turning over his shoulder, his cold eyes revealed themselves like a deep sapphire sea. "Anybody _else_ want to try?"

The next few roared in response, charging in like wild dogs.

_This is going to take a while._ Nicholas thought idly. He also wondered if he was going to miss his boat.

/-/

"Guh… you bastard… she's gonna… get you…"

Nicholas nodded silently – half rolling his eyes - not really feeling the need to reply with words as the pommel of his sword left the solar plexus of the short-haired woman that had once challenged him with such fiery determination and confidence. To her credit, she was much more of a formidable opponent than her compatriots in crime. A combination of ferocious power and agility made her hard to catch and hard to dodge. When she was finally caught, however…

She slumped down on the ground, kicking up dust and dirt alike as the man stepped back to process what just happened.

Around him lay bodies adorning random bits of gear that scattered like dead leaves. They were all unconscious, of course. There had been many carefully placed elbows, punches and pommel strikes that had gone into place to ensure that as Nicholas wasn't about to commit mass murder on account of both being a graduated huntsman and a moral human being. Decades had taught him a thing or two about knocking a person out, who would have thought?

Nicholas thought he was probably going to miss boat if he didn't get moving.

Under normal circumstances, the man would have handed these people in to the local authorities to serve their sentence and experience retribution for their crimes but taking into consideration the sheer amount of people he would have to carry and the nearest establishment being at least a mile away – it just wasn't possible.

The twittering of the birds in the branches were the only real sounds that echoed in the now still forest. Content with scratching his short and unkempt beard, Nicholas conceded the fact that he was just going to have to leave these people here in hopes of them waking up and learning their lesson. He didn't need an overly-sarcastic and overly-caring wife to tell him that wasn't going to be the case, though.

However, just as he stepped up and over the breathing but out-cold body of the woman he had just put to sleep, the sound of the very fabric of reality breaking at the seams behind him made him stop dead in his tracks. His eyes drifted downwards to his feet, the young woman's words coming back to him: _'Our actual boss wants you – dead or alive…'_

He stepped back, turning sideways-on and letting his heavy, navy and white-furred blue overcoat sway in the motion – hand still gripped firm onto the hilt of his sword. He hoped he didn't have to use it, but to sheathe it at a time like this would be a fool's choice.

A rift, black and red whirled to life. It was rippling the space it occupied like a finger-tip would to a body of water, except the water was reality itself. "I can't believe this…" He whispered under his breath, in complete and authentic disbelief.

"_I_ can," a voice replied from beyond the void. The voice echoed and drew closer, attributing itself to a monstrous white mask with vibrant red markings – the mask of a beast, a Grimm, yet not truly. Outfit as black and red as the rip in reality, the figure emerged from the portal and stood to face him as the way of transport warped shut, restoring the space to how it originally was.

"Hello, Nicholas," the feminine tone that greeted him was a sickly sweet. In ways that it was a sweet that made him sick. The figure brought a hand to its face and removed its mask with a click, creating a clash of bright crimson and dark cerulean as two different souls met.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

/-/

Oh… how did it all come to this.

Well, in truth, Jaune knew _exactly_ how the situation ended up the way it did but wanted to express his distaste for what could or may happen in the following moments.

Yang called them all to the room's carpet, just in front of the door and ordered them to sit in a circle. To the two teams' confused mumblings, she waved off any sort of concern under the pretence of: _'Just trust me, guys.'_ Jaune should have known that meant trouble when even Ruby looked at him and shrugged helplessly.

Of course, her sister was willing to go along with her strangely ominous demands who was swiftly followed by Pyrrha – prompting the more… suspicious members of the 'sleepover' to comply with Yang's instructions.

Jaune fell with a silent groan, nodding to Ren respectfully who sat next to him in a way that made him question if his knees ever got hurt or tired like that. To his other side, down came Blake – book still in hand and clad in the dark nightgown that similarly made Jaune question if he had something for legs. Shaking his head, the boy refocussed on something that didn't make him any closer to the man who had taught him.

He himself wore a Pumpkin Pete's t-shirt, not the limited edition one he always wore with his combat outfit, and adorned black shorts with two yellow stripes vertical down the side. Legs crossed, Jaune's hands intertwined in the center of his lap, patiently awaiting whatever maniacal plot a certain other blonde had concocted and wished to subject them to.

Opposite of the circle, Yang fell with a wicked grin on her face as she outstretched one of her legs and brought the other to her chest – pushing up her substantial bust lopsidedly, making Jaune feel a deadly, _deadly_ gravitational pull. Especially since they were all wearing their pyjamas… Jaune shook his head yet again in disbelief at how much of a _teenager_ he was being, instead choosing to focus on the girl sat next to the yellow-maned schemer.

Hair down and bronze tiara absent, Pyrrha's hair fell down like a crimson waterfall as she sat elegantly, legs together and to the side as she seemed to put more weight on her thighs. Ruby, who was on Yang's other side, had both knees to her chest that held the dog-shaped pillow she had at pre-Initiation instead of anything more… distracting.

Weiss and Nora sat by their respective partners, forming a complete ring of pyjama-clad teenagers that were in turn surrounded by various crinkled cans and packets that scattered the floor of the Team PYRN's room. Jaune blamed Nora but, really, she was only responsible for 'borrowing' the snacks from the cafeteria when no-one was looking.

Really, it was amazing how she even managed to pull it off – making it _twice_ at this point where she's managed to swipe something she probably shouldn't have had for the benefit of the two teams. And considering that, for _some_ reason, most of RASB didn't even have lunch – what a benefit it was.

"So… what are we doing?" Nora asked the blond girl, intensely curious. The ginger had pink, frilly shorts that were dotted with hearts and a simple black t-shirt that was similar to his own but had the word 'Boop' designed fashionably across the chest.

Yang's grin seemed to get wider as she reached behind her back.

It was in that moment that Jaune's darkest fears were realised.

"Truth or dare, baby!" She roared, the object behind her back revealed to be a glass bottle that she slammed into the centre of the circle.

Jaune's face grew horrified. Tonight was going to suck.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**New faces, old games. **

**At the start of the chapter, hopefully you're beginning to see Jaune's true struggles and where some of his mentality ultimately stems from. Qrow's whole speech about strength of the soul can be interpreted how you wish. To add to that, there was a very big theme throughout the majority of the chapter - that being self-doubt. I didn't want to outwardly say it but I think it would be beneficial for a reader who didn't exactly understand my intention (if so, apologies on my part).**

**Ruby, while arguably the most optimistic and the last person you would think to doubt themselves finally has their trigger. Many people were confused with why she was chosen as team leader (or at least, that was what was vocalised to me) and there certainly was a reason she was picked over Jaune. And even with Ozpin's reasoning sounding so grand...**

**I'll leave that interpretation to you.**

**Weiss is also a character I would feel to doubt herself often. She had to prove herself to her father and constantly seems like she has something to prove, in how high and mighty she regularly acts. Jaune and Weiss actually are quite similar in their origins, the main difference being that one seemingly has succeeded in proving themselves to others and themselves (even if they feel like they haven't) while the other hasn't felt like that at all despite all the hardships they had faced.**

**Jaune wants to be a huntsman, not a hero. He learnt very well what that means from a certain person. It was a desire brought about by his self-doubt in becoming a flawless concept. On multiple occasions, he has paralleled Qrow's line of thinking in that regard - both in manner and actual speech. Perhaps this will be exposed in future interactions, but - again - you're just going to have to wait and see.**

**Pretty long intention note, but I felt like I had to write it for whatever reason. Next chapter, we have filler (but not really, trust me) and other tidbits that I'm sure you'll be excited for.**

**As always...**

* * *

Thank you for reading this chapter!


	12. Chapter 12: Truth, Dare Offer, Order

**Author's Notes:**

**Errgh… Animal Crossing…**

**Would you believe me if I wrote this a whole month ago? Yeah… I've been putting off proof-reading it because of the whole pandemic sweeping the globe, Doom Eternal coming out, _Animal Crossing_ coming out the new FF7 remake and RE3 remake coming out in like a week. There's a whole bunch of video games just consuming my entire life now that there's not much else to put my mind to.**

**There's also my art too, so my writing's really been taking the back-burner. Just got into a couple of webtoon shits too, never thought I would have but here we are. Oh, and the new anime season's coming out with season 3 of Oregairu- **

**You see what I mean?**

**In any case, we're here now and if you're here I can only assume you have nothing better to do than read some fanfic. Who am I to deny you? Last time, Jaune feared the worst as Yang announced a game of Truth or Dare while Nicholas has a run in with a familiar(?) face. **

**Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"It's been a while – hasn't it, Nicholas?"

Nicholas' mouth peeled upwards into something reminiscent of a snarl and stabbed the blade of his sword into the dirt. "Raven…" he basically spat the word out.

Raven's hand reached for her face before an audible _click_ echoed throughout the forest they stood on. Midnight gloves grasped the white decoration, bringing it under her arm as the faintest grin came to the woman's face. "It's nice to see that you're as cold as ever." Slowly, her sight drifted among many of the bodies that lay unconscious along the grass. "And as sharp as ever. I would have thought getting shacked up might have dulled you a little. How _is_ Juniper, by the way?"

"Don't act like you care about her; what do you want, Raven?" There was a low growl under his words and – while his overall demeanour was quite calm – there was no denying that this unexpected surprise was not a pleasant one.

"My, my," she cooed, leaning forward at the hip. Her voice was almost condescending and it brought up a bubbling feeling in Nicholas' gut, like when water boiled. Replace that water with acid the sentiment was defined fully. "I'll have you know I quite liked the woman when I first met her. She knew what she wanted. Feisty." Raven's eyebrow quirked, a light lit in her crimson orbs. "_Strong._"

If his dislike of the woman standing opposite to him, it was most definitely showing now as Nicholas' teeth flashed ivory.

Normally, Nicholas was a man of a reserved nature. Even if, once upon a time, he was once a boy filled with pride, courage and diligence – of which some elements faded as the years passed and he met certain people – he never did wear his emotions on his sleeves. For all his life, very little actually managed to get under his skin and make him respond in such a way.

But this woman – no, this _indignant virago _– seemed to be one of the only things to provoke him in such a way.

Perhaps, to put it in perspective, if Juniper brought the best out of the man – Raven Branwen seemed to know how to bring out the worst. It had been like that since Beacon. And despite it being years since their last face-to-face meeting, it was quite evident that she had not lost that ability.

However, people adapt. People change. People learn to combat the adversities that life mercilessly throw at them. Nicholas was one of those people. Face twitching, realising the shape it took, the ragged man folded his arms and regained himself – leaving his sword in the ground.

"You didn't answer my question," he reaffirmed. "What do you want, Raven?"

The dark-haired woman dropped her smirk, appealingly disappointed, before standing back up straight and putting her free hand to her black-skirted hip. "Hmph. Can't a woman visit an old friend?"

Old friend was laying it on thick. Thick like the amount of blankets his second-youngest daughter Lavender would wear during a cold winter day. But here, Nicholas saw his opportunity to strike; a phantom of a satisfied grin pulled at his lips. "She can. But only after she visits the family she abandoned first."

People adapted and changed. While Raven was able to get under his own skin, it wasn't soon after that Nicholas developed the very same skill to bite back. They bickered like wild dogs at Beacon and the sentiment was retained to the present day, it seemed. Quite ironic that she thought that talk about family would affect him the most.

Quite ironic indeed.

Any semblance of playfulness in her tone vanished, a venomous snarl of her own melting onto Raven's face as she spat in retaliation, "You don't know anything."

Crimson and cerulean met like clashing waves of the ocean. Nicholas pushed further, "I know enough. Taiyang was quite descriptive in how you abandoned both him and your new-born daughter." He scoffed; a bitter and dry sound. "But I'm sure it was all well and fine for your never-ending crusade for _strength, _isn't it?"

Raven's throat let loose a growl akin to a lioness. "He told you? That soft idiot. Didn't think he'd come crying to you of all people for comfort."

Quite honestly, Nicholas was surprised himself at the time. It was a normal day, he was back home from a mission that he had recently completed and was with his wife at the time. Back then, it was only Sapphire, Saffron and Coral – the latter two trying to walk around the cabin but failing miserably while Juniper held them by their hands. His personal scroll started to ring and, sure enough, the caller tag was one he hadn't seen for years.

A voice, hoarse and tired came from the other end – just wanting to talk. And like he said, his old comrade in arms told him everything. In excruciating detail. In ways, it made Nicholas feel as though he was going through it himself. That was part of the reason why his hatred for Raven rose to levels past simply a high school grudge.

Raven abandoned her family. To an Arc, family meant everything; it had always been that way for generations. Even if he took it in a different direction to his parents and their parents before them – Nicholas' family was worth his own life several folds over to him. The only way that he was ever going to abandon them was if he was dead. Though, he wished good luck to anyone getting that far.

But if family meant everything to an Arc, why did his own son choose to leave them behind without a word?

In any case, an agreement was made between the two to meet back up in Vale, to talk some more _'like good old times'_, he said. Of course, his loving wife gave him the go ahead, promising to look after the children like the amazing woman she was as he reunited with the man he would have called a brother, if only they had spent more time together.

Upon arrival, he later found out that Summer had put the man to action – encouraging him to express his feelings to more people to make him feel better. Nicholas did find it quite fascinating how the woman didn't immediately take her chance to bag the man he was so interested in at the time. It truly was a testament to her honest nature as a person.

Their little 'talk' became a bar outing, to which both Summer and Qrow were waiting with a table ready. It was a night of laughs, shots, catching up and more shots. Of course, Summer was instantly out of it but the more she drank the more violently excited she became. So much so that Taiyang offered to walk her home for the night.

The remaining two at the bar gave each other a knowing look at the time. What a night it was for him.

Nicholas' relation with Raven's brother was more complicated. While the man was essentially the complete and utter antithesis to him in all aspects of his character at the time, they shared a single trait that united them closely.

Their complete and utter hatred of Raven.

One due familial relation, the other due to pure dislike of the subject's demeanour. And while their bond wasn't as tight as, say, Nicholas and Taiyang – they knew how to share a drink and a laugh despite their occasional quarrels. Speaking of…

"Sorry, I didn't know it was such a sore spot for you," Nicholas said scornfully, sounding anything _but _apologetic as he brought himself back to the present. "How are the others, though?"

For a second, Raven's scowl lifted before she averted her crimson gaze and came back with one even fiercer.

Tilting his head forward slightly, Nicholas spoke again, "I meant Summer and your brother."

"I know-!" Her head snapped back to him, eyes wide and filled with a fury that quickly faded away as she took a breath – canines still on display. "I _know_ who you mean." Raven sighed, as if still coming to terms with the information she was relaying. "Guess he didn't tell you _that_, huh? Summer's dead. Qrow is… Qrow's still blinded by his own moronic volition."

Wait. Nicholas paused, arms tightening in their cross under his chest. He felt his face twist in confusion. "Summer is… dead?"

"That's what I said. I tried to tell her, the absolute fool but… and now she's tainted my own brother's… ugh." Raven pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling an obvious annoyance at the topic at hand. The very topic she brought up in the first place. "Why am I even telling you this…? She whispered underneath her breath.

Summer was _dead?_ That was news to him. Tragic news. Heart-breaking news. Nicholas' head tilted further forward, uncrossing his arms and feeling the sensation of his brows hardening. The woman that had once been so full of life and hope, no matter how naïve it may have seemed, was dead? Her infectious smile invaded the man's head before being washed away like sand in high tide.

Taiyang would have been absolutely miserable then, now with a lack of anybody to push him in the right direction. No wonder he didn't get the message and was only just now hearing of it. Qrow probably felt as though it wasn't his place to tell but feeling just as bad Taiyang – if not, worse. The poor man probably never even got to…

"Shit."

"Yeah, thanks," Raven noted dryly, overcoming the headache that had suddenly appeared. Her hand returned to her hip as a sour expression replaced the one of rage earlier. "You just want to tell me what you're doing out in these parts?"

She sighed yet again, and only then did Nicholas realise the faint stench of fine Mistrali wine in the air. Her hair was more of a mess than he remembered it and the bags under her eyes screamed for sleep. Nicholas came to a conclusion that made his eyelids rise ever so slightly.

Raven was a much more broken woman than she let on. It wasn't exactly clear, but perhaps it was because they had spent so much time together at Beacon and the few years after. She was tired and now her entire '_strength'_ thing seeming much more like a coping mechanism than the strict code of behaviour that the woman once adhered to so vehemently. Nicholas almost felt bad for her.

Almost.

While the sentiment of sympathy was present, his dislike for her past decisions shone darker than the light of the goodness within him. Raven didn't deserve sympathy, but it would only seem wrong to deny her the answer to her question – even to the cold and distant Nicholas who hated the woman with a passion.

Pulling Avalon from the grass with a slick sound of metal, another sound as steel met steel reverberated repeatedly as the azure blade was sheathed. "I plan to head for the West Mistrali Port to catch a boat, inbound for Vale."

A small quirk of the eyebrow for a tired, crimson set of eyes. Raven sustained the look for half a second before shrugging, content with his sudden cooperation. The smirk on her face returned, not as prominent as before but still present. "I hear that Beacon's just started a new year, you know."

"Is that so? That's interesting." Nicholas said, turning around and getting ready to make his way to where he needed to be. She got what she wanted, albeit in a very eccentric fashion, so there was no reason for her to peruse him any longer. "The boat is due for sundown. Meeting you once again certainly was _riveting._ Goodbye, Raven."

At least that's what he thought.

"Don't play dumb with me, Arc, I know what you're doing," the woman behind him scoffed, rolling her eyes. He ignored it, of course, calling it out as a bluff until she pushed. "Or rather, I know _who you're missing._"

The muscles under his eye jolted with electricity, causing them to twitch. Pivoting on his leather boot's heel slowly, Nicholas stared down the woman who held a more satisfied look despite his tone.

"_What_ do you know?"

"I know enough," Raven quipped cockily, echoing his words from earlier. "I know that he's been missing for at least half a year. I know that he wants to be a huntsman. I know that he's _probably_ at a certain school being run by a certain man that we're _both_ acquainted with."

An urge to put a hand on the hilt of Avalon was repressed, desperate to draw out the dark-haired vixen's words further. Instead, Nicholas settled for a calm storm washing over his features, asking, "What do you _want?_"

"Straight to the point. If anything, I always liked that about you. Too bad it's also one of your worst qualities too." Her expression softened as she waved a hand. "Relax, I don't _want_ anything from you." At his _very_ skeptical eyebrow, Raven reinforced, "Really. In fact, I'm here to make an offer."

This definitely didn't sound very promising. However, to an Arc, family meant everything. He couldn't look for Jaune for the past year due to worrying about the safety of the girls and Juniper. Nicholas only left at this time _because_ he knew Beacon started soon and _because_ his son would be stupid enough to try get in – if only to prove a point.

But here an opportunity was. To get closer to saving the boy who had ran from them. His own and only son.

In the form of Raven Branwen…

"An offer? You? Doesn't sound likely."

Letting out a dry laugh from the chest, Raven clutched the mask under her arm just a little tighter. "Yeah, you aren't wrong," she agreed. "But I'm serious. I could just use my Semblance to get you there."

"Is Qrow in Vale?"

Her hair swayed back and forth as the woman shook her head. "It isn't to him." Nicholas' mouth opened to say something but was unfortunately interrupted sternly, "And it's not to _Tai,_ either." Raven narrowed her eyes. "I can take you straight to _him_ if you want."

A second of silence as the forest took the air of the conversation for that brief moment.

"I thought you're Semblance could only link to people you formed a bond with."

Obviously, Nicholas knew about her Semblance. Vice versa was true too, of course. It was only natural after spending so much time with each other's team. Granted it took quite a lot of prying but Qrow getting beat up for relaying the information was a worthwhile trade back then.

Narrowing her eyes, Raven sneered, flicking her head away. "I once trusted him with everything, you know." The volume of her voice dropped, but the poison failed to fall with it. "Biggest mistake of my life."

Nicholas mirrored her actions to a lesser extent. "Yeah. I know."

"Anyway, I know that you know that I know what's going on. And I _also_ know you know that I wouldn't mind causing the old man some trouble." Looking him up and down, Raven gave a playful grin. "Even if it comes in a package that looks like _you._ So? How's about it?"

It was… tempting, to say the least. Raven didn't seem disingenuous about her offer, despite all of his scepticism. He could confront the man who seemed to know everything in the next _minute _if he so wished. All he had to do was say-

"No."

"Alright then," Raven said, putting her mask back on and reaching for her sword before pausing halfway through the action. "Wait. What?"

"No thanks, Raven." Reaffirming his decision, Nicholas turned his back on the red and black-clad woman to head towards the port on foot. "If Ozpin felt you use your Semblance and I came through it, he'd probably start trying to get me to talk you into joining him again." At his explanation, Raven paused, having seemingly not thought about it. "And I doubt you want to open up a portal to Taiyang or your own daughter to get me there either."

The two were in similar positions after all. While he didn't hold the exact same sentiment towards the man that Raven did – they had both done a certain thing similar that would no doubt have the gears in his head turning if he thought the two were somehow connected.

Nicholas wasn't willing to risk planting that seed into his mind.

Initial shock at his denial wore off and Raven yelled with a straight back and serious register. "You sure about this?"

"Of course I am." An invisible force pulled at a side of his lips, unseen to the woman behind him but calling over his shoulder anyway. "I'd rather die than accept help from you anyway."

"Tch," Raven scoffed, a mixture of bemusement and annoyance dancing on her features as she clicked on her mask and drew her sword to conjure a portal for herself. "Then, I guess it's your funeral."

_We'll just have to wait and see,_ Nicholas thought. Because Nicholas Arc had many answers and one son to find.

And he knew exactly where to find them.

/-/

A sour taste was left in her mouth after that conversation. Nicholas was still a real piece of work. The years didn't dull his edge quite as much as she would have thought. And it _really_ didn't help that he had a solid point that made her agree with his decision to basically reject her rare showing of generosity.

Having Ozpin suspicious of you didn't sound like a good deal, especially when his reputation with the old man wasn't as fragmented as her own.

Her crimson blade was pulled from the assortment stored within the mechanical sheathe at her hip, ripping open a tunnel between two segments of reality. Ash was at camp, so he would make the link possible. As soon as the portal opened, Raven knew he would feel a jolt within his very essence – taking into account that she had to figuratively grab hold the string, or bond, that connected them to make a connection.

When you put it like that, it wasn't hard to see why that stubborn, straight-laced blond that she despised all throughout Beacon didn't want her to make one to Ozpin. Gah. The very thought made her feel so stupid.

"Errgh…"

"Oh?" Raven paused midway through her descent into the portal, taking a look over her shoulder to view the form of Vernal slowly coming back to the world of the living. "Finally decided to wake up, did you? About time. Come on, we're leaving."

She didn't offer a hand. She knew Vernal wasn't expecting a hand. With her own strength, Vernal pushed herself up from her prone position with various groans and moans that Raven rolled her eyes to. Nicholas had knocked her unconscious but he wasn't the type to use excessive force where unnecessary so her struggle appeared to be babyish complaining to the woman.

With an eye closed half-way and one of her weapons clutched weakly while the other clutched her abdomen where she was undoubtedly struck, the girl spoke weakly, "…What about the others?"

"The others will make it back if they deserve to."

"But me?"

"Do you want a free ride back or not?" Raven snapped, a cheeky grin appearing on the short-haired girl's face in spite of her condition. She was even lucky the offer was being made, much like it was to the man she was thrashed around by earlier.

Vernal knew where the line was and took what she could get, evident by her response, "Yes, ma'am."

"That's more like it." One leg was put through the portal and soon, the rest of her body came through as well – swiftly followed by a limping Vernal who strained at the very motion of merely walking.

Reality shifted and morphed, an incomprehensible process as the two appeared out of the red and black gateway back to the tribe campsite. Open greenery was replaced with the hustle and bustle of non-unconscious goons, lackeys and thugs – every which one under the command of Raven – that were completing various tasks and jobs around the area.

A black heel appeared from the portal, stepping onto familiar soil and attracting the attention of a black and white-haired individual, dust covering his face and attire. "Oh? You back already, boss? How'd it go?"

"Shut it, Ash." Raven retorted to her underling's question, storming off into her tent and letting the flap open with a fierce swing of her arm.

"That badly, then?" Ash said to the other girl who managed to make her way through the rift in space their leader had created. It closed with an otherworldly sound, restoring reality to the way the gods had ordered it to be.

Vernal almost tripped over a large pebble as she stumbled her way in the direction of Raven and shot the camp's engineer a dirty look. "What do you think, idiot?" Tossing her weapons towards the apron-wearing man, he caught the bladed edge with his hands just before they sliced open his jugular as a flash of black and white shone on his thick gloves. "My weapons need a tune up, too."

Voice tinged with sarcasm, Ash placed the two boomerang disc-blades onto his workbench along the random assortment of various other metals while idly speaking, "Yes, _ma'am_."

Scoffing, Vernal stood back up and attempted to make her way to Raven's tent – vainly ignoring the various jeers and insults sent her way for getting her ass beat.

"Ma'am?" The girl asked, brushing away the tent opening and silently asking permission to enter.

It was granted with a dismissive wave as Raven removed her mask and placed it to the side, collapsing onto the floor cushion at the other side of a low-down table. "Sit," she ordered.

The other very much did, collapsing to a much larger extent than her boss – wincing. Her eyes widened at the sight and scent of fresh tea being scraping along the wooden surface and residing within an oriental-looking cup.

Raven poured one for herself afterwards, letting the hot liquid steam up as it splashed softly into the container below. As the liquid settled, she raised her head to see Vernal doing her best to take advantage of her rare hospitality and attempting to take small sips from the tea that she had given her.

One hand scooped the underside of the cup and the other held it stead as Raven took a sip of her own before locking eyes with her subordinate; silence overcoming the two.

"Ma'am." The one to break the silence was the more scuffed of the two, her tone forcing itself to be polite, even while in pain. "Could you explain why you sent us after that guy now?"

An eyebrow quirked upwards as Raven sneered, "You think you're in a position to ask for information after getting your ass handed to you back there?"

"But you said-"

Cutting her underling off before she could finish her point, the dark-haired woman placed her teacup onto the table and leant backwards, cocking a knee up and placing her arm upon it. "I know what I said," she confirmed strongly. Even stronger, Raven reiterated, "You didn't answer my question, Vernal."

Vernal looked away, somewhat shamefully and somewhat angrily – the memory of getting thrown around by Nicholas obviously not a pleasant one. "No, ma'am."

Her sneer became one of misguided satisfaction. Raven's shoulders twitched upwards as she chuckled, a sound that went unheard by anyone but her. "That's what I thought. Now, what do you want to know?"

Teal orbs made their way back to her own crimson pupils as an undeniable air of suspicion made its way into the interior of the decorated tent, her cup carefully placing itself down. As Raven's smirk dimmed, Vernal grew the courage to finally ask the questions that were plaguing her mind ever since she was assigned to the job. "Who was that guy?"

Eye contact was kept as Raven began to list off facts. "His name's Nicholas Arc. Same age as me, give or take. Got a family and lives somewhere in the middle of nowhere on the Mistrali frontier. I don't know if he still takes jobs but he graduated Beacon and was one of the best swordsmen of our year." Of course, not better than her – but a hell of a lot more skilled with the blade than Qrow. If it was a strict contest between technique, Nicholas would have – and did on multiple occasions – mopped the floor with her younger brother.

He never did get over the fact, even if that topic was never the topic of discussion whenever he decided to… 'visit'.

Without any thought, Vernal rubbed a freehand across her gut, "Felt like he knew exactly where to get me…"

"Yeah, well," Raven rose a palm upwards and shrugged, "He's had practise, you could say. Anything else?"

"Why did you even give us this job then?" While the girl's voice grew somewhat accusatory, Raven's gaze remained flat – even apathetic – as Vernal continued, "If you knew he was going to fuck our shit up, why even try let us capture him?"

Her tongue clicked against her teeth. "I just wanted to see if he dulled any over the years. Though, judging by the results…"

"I think it's safe to say the answer's _no,_ ma'am," Vernal spat, the venom not really directed towards her but the offshoots of it landing in her area.

"If he got his shit handed to him, I would have just made fun of him and kicked his ass back out into the forest," the older woman admitted. "After all, if he got beat by you lot – he didn't deserve what I was going to offer him."

"Alright," Vernal conceded but very much not sounding happy with the explanation; sourness leaking from her words, "Why did you want _him?_"

Her own dark-red pupils hid themselves from view behind her eyelids – Raven's lips hardening into a thin line as she thought about how to answer the girl's question.

"Ma'am?"

They snapped open, content with the resolution they found. "That man's son has been missing for a year – give or take."

It took a second but Vernal shook her head in disbelief, a confused pull of the cheek making one eye smaller. "Why would _you_ care? Aren't you supposed to be a…" Raven's look essentially dared the injured girl to say it.

She did.

"A bitch?"

This time, an audible chuckle left her mouth. "At least getting completely pulverized didn't weaken your spirit any." Raven did like that about the short-haired girl. She liked that about most people. A strong spirit was worth a lot; she would argue more so than a strong body. Though, having one without the other was completely worthless in her eyes. Crimson orbs found themselves onto her teacup, watching the steam rise into the air as she spoke, "It's because my brother… my brother's responsible for his disappearance."

"You mean the one who keeps coming over to the site so he can bug you about 'coming back', or whatever?"

Rolling her eyes, Raven settled the query, "Yes, Vernal, _that_ one." Her look became more serious, as if reflecting. "My idiot brother with his stupid ideals and brainless, misplaced loyalty…" A soft sigh left her lips. "His son's disappearance is because of my brother and, in a way, it made me feel responsible."

Her feeling responsibility? She knew how ironic that was, how deeply ironic indeed. But just her brother being the source of another's worry and suffering? Raven couldn't stand it. Perhaps it was them having to grow up in such a horrid way that made her feel so attached but Raven couldn't throw away the actions of her brother and not try make them right.

She was ruthless warrior but what was a warrior without honour?

Nicholas didn't know the whereabouts of his kid thanks to dim-witted brother and his idiotic philosophy, creating trouble for someone he would have called his friend and not even letting him know. And while Raven could very well just open up a portal and teach Qrow a lesson, she didn't want to get too involved; she instead settled for allowing Nicholas do the work himself _faster, _as it was the most she was willing to offer.

In any case, the two owed each other much more than they cared to admit. Being such tight-knit teams back in Beacon held unforgettable experiences between the both of them.

But Vernal wasn't content. "What did he do to the kid?"

And Raven wasn't in the mood anymore. "Finish your tea and get out. Go… rest or something, I don't know; just stop asking these stupid questions." She had used the word quite a lot but it was the general sentiment towards the subject at hand. Stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

Narrowing her eyebrows for a moment, the girl nodded and drained the liquid from the cup in a single chug - not daring to push her boss any further than she was willing to be pushed. She stood from the cushion and exited the tent with the sound of fluttering fabric, leaving Raven with her own thoughts.

It's not like she thought the kid was weak, or even dead – even if it _was_ at the mercy of her brother's horrid track record of incidents. He was alright but Raven would be hard pressed to admit that he was _all right._ What that entailed was much more complicated of a concept, resulting in Raven pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Those cloudy blue eyes of the young boy resurfaced in her distant memory.

Her mouth twisted into an ugly growl._ Damn it, Qrow… what were you thinking back then?_

/-/

Spinning round and round and round…

Man, Jaune really didn't want to be here right now.

The bottle in the middle of the room was a hypnotising green spiral that prophesised the unbecoming of the poor teen. It reminded him of simpler times. Of simply _traumatising_ times involving things such as pony tails, dresses and various other womanly items of clothing and/or usage. His sisters never did take a break when it came to the game of darkness incarnate: Truth or Dare.

Spinning round and round and round… the green glass bottle landed on its first victim.

"Ren…" Yang slammed a hand onto the carpet, the words coming out slowly - drawing them out for the devilish incantation they were, "Truth or dare?"

Sure enough, the glass finger pointed itself towards the boy with vibrant pink eyes sat literally right next to him. "Truth," he said softly. A single word that could end your entire life, Jaune thought. Ren's bollocks truly were made of Remnant's hardest of materials.

"Are you and Nora… a _thing?_ Like, for real, a thing?" The blonde asked accusingly, lilac orbs switching between the two.

"Yang…" Pyrrha said lightly, as if annoyed that her partner would intrude on such a topic in front of others.

"_Pyrrha…_" She retorted with the same intonation, rolling her eyes. "This is _Truth or Dare;_ we can ask whatever we want. It's like you never played it before."

At her justification, Pyrrha seemed to draw her emerald gaze away for a moment before renouncing her reprimand, "Well, if they're alright with it, I guess it's fine…"

"We're together," he started – inclining his head forward with a good-natured smile.

"But not… _together,_ together, you know?" Nora finished, seeming bashful about the topic.

A long groan came from Yang, "You guys keep saying that but what does it even mean?"

"I'm sorry. Yang, but I don't believe it's your turn anymore, Ren said with a hidden smirk adorning his features. A wave of silence washed over the two teams before they all erupted in jeers and cheers in his favour. Even Blake attempted to cover her laughter behind the cover of her book.

"Ooo, sis, you just got Ren'ed!" The smaller girl next to Yang said, nudging her older sister in her ribs before her hand was pushed away angrily.

Nora was in a similar vocal mind-set, yelling at the blonde, "Yeah, get some! That's what you get for asking things that are none. Of. Your. Business!" The ginger straightened herself before quickly adding, "Not like there's anything to hide, or anything anyway, so…"

Giving the teen next to him a solid pat on the back for his rare usage of words, Jaune smiled._ Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought_. Weiss seemed impressed at Ren's, admittedly, pretty _sick_ burn – nodding her head appreciatively at the boy's pure slaughter of the intrusive blonde while Pyrrha attempted to console her partner to little effect.

Yeah, these guys weren't going to be ruthless in the sense that his sisters were. Nor would he be the odd one out or the focus. Tonight wasn't going to be _that _bad, right?

Taking in all the praise with a calm demeanour, Ren waited for the volume to die down to a chatter before spinning the bottle to decide its next victim. It went around once and twice before landing on Weiss, who was wide-eyed and seemed to not really know what to expect next.

"Truth or dare, Weiss?" asked the dark-haired boy.

Giving it deliberation, the snow-haired girl seemed to think hard about the choice. A little bit too hard. To the point where Yang had to complain audibly to everyone, "Weiss, there's – like – two answers. Just pick one already."

"Don't rush me!" Weiss snapped back before folding her arms and deciding with her eyes closed. "But if you're going to pressure me, then I guess I pick dare."

"_Someone's_ trying to look brave…" Yang whispered behind her mouth, volume more akin to a loud hiss from the throat – earning the laughs of everyone present.

"Am not!"

"Then, I dare you to let your hair down for the entirety of tomorrow," stated Ren seriously.

"That's a good one," Ruby admitted, squeezing the dog pillow in her arms slightly tighter before taking a glance at her partner.

"Hmph," Weiss scoffed, a proud look appearing on her face. "That will be easy. Though, it makes me wonder how one can fight with their hair down like that." She brought her hair around her shoulders, running her hands through it slowly. "Would it not get in the way?"

Three girls – black, red and yellow in hair colour – met eyes in sync. "You get used to it," they all said in unison.

Weiss' fingers wrapped itself around the green object before letting it rip in rotations around and around. Her eyes flattened at the sight of who it landed it on. "Yang…"

"Hit me with your best shot, Ice Queen," the taller girl said confidently. "Gimmie a dare."

"Who's trying to look tough now…?" Weiss muttered under her breath whilst trying to think of a punishment to match the crime of her previous humiliation.

Looking to sister, Yang nudged her side with an elbow, "Difference is, I don't _have_ to try_._"

Ruby started to giggling freely; the snickering between the entire group spread until Weiss' raised finger silenced them all. Coming back down and to the side, the end of it looking down onto the pillow-hugging girl who was staring down the finger – crossing her silver eyes to do so.

"Eh?"

"Yang," Weiss said, not directly looking at the girl she was speaking to but instead her dark-haired sister. "I dare you to tell _all _of us an embarrassing story about Ruby."

Yang began a low laugh, "Ohohoh… it'd be my pleasure…"

"Wait, what? How is this fair? Why me?"

Her questions and queries went answered by Weiss who looked at her partner with an offended tone to her voice. "You deserve it for unjustly making fun of me."

"What?!" Leaning forward, Ruby's face came closer to her partner as she complained. "That was Yang's fault! And _everyone _laughed!"

With a childish grin, the yellow-maned girl next to Ruby started, "There was this one time back on Patch, where we came from, when Ruby went to school – forgetting that she was wearing anything but her cloak." Ignoring the _"Yaaang…_" being hissed by her side, she continued, "Dad was out on a job so Ruby thought she could stay up _all _night to show how much of a big girl she was. We were just walking when suddenly, at the gate of our school, a particularly strong gust of wind blew past and…" Lilac eyes danced across the circle. "Well, you can guess."

"Yang, please…" Ruby moaned to the side, attempting to shield herself from the many looks of complete and utter looks of incredulity from everyone present.

"Oh, really?" Jaune picked up the story, a familiar feeling rising in his conscience as Ruby buried her crimson face in the stomach of the soft pillow she held between her arms. "I don't think I can, Yang. What _did_ happen next?"

A toothy smirk came back in full force, an understanding between two older siblings despite one not knowing about the other's family. "_Woosh!_" To emphasise, Yang threw her arms up into the air, "There it was, for the entire school to see! Her cute, little Beowolf undies that she loves, oh so much. Keep it a secret between you and me – this was, like, ten years ago but she still has them to _this_ day."

"Oh my gosh, Yang, why?!" At full force, Ruby launched her pillow into the face of her sister – a direct hit that had the older girl flat on her back with an _'oof' _and adding to the resounding laughter between everyone. She next extended her arm wildly towards Jaune, to which he rose his arms in defence as she shouted, "And you! What was that for?"

"Maybe you'll think twice before laughing at the expense of others next time," Jaune answered back with a smile, enjoying the moment for what it was. Of course, the irony wasn't lost, earning the smile of Blake who once again tried to hide her amusement behind her book.

"Stupid Yang, stupid Weiss, stupid Jaune…" The youngest girl in the room mumbled.

Jaune himself knew that Ruby was actually two years the junior of everyone else at Beacon, she kind of just blurted it out when they first met and walked around mindlessly before Ozpin's speech. Though, it wasn't really a secret due to her smaller stature (excluding Weiss) and overall mannerisms being quite different to the rest of the team. Not in a bad way, either. It was just that there was a big difference between being seventeen and being fifteen – so much so that one could tell the two apart if they were put to the task.

Ruby came forward on her knees and reached for the bottle. "Just for that, you aren't having a turn anymore. How does _that_ make you feel?"

"Go for it, Rubes," her sister encouraged, chucking the pillow lightly in Ruby's general direction. "All yours."

Grumbling quietly, she spun the bottle – the open end landing towards him.

"Truth." At his answer, the silence followed made tension build up in his stomach. "Have mercy…" Jaune begged sarcastically earning a few chuckles from around the circle. While he said it sarcastically, the boy really did not want to have to do something embarrassing for helping Yang achieve her goal of making Ruby as red as her cloak.

Much to his relief, Ruby folded her arms in a very Weiss-y manner (yes, Jaune considered that to be a way of describing an action now) before harrumphing, "Puh-lease. I'm not _that_ petty. Hm… what about that?"

"Huh?" She pointed towards his ear, the dangling metal accessory reflecting what little light the room had to offer. "You mean this?" Both hands were brought to his years, fiddling with the earring to get it off. Two fingers held it so that the crooked cross was upright – the steel of the surface meeting Ruby's metallic orbs.

"Yeah…" Ruby squinted a little, trying to get a better look at it. "Where did you get it? It looks kinda familiar…"

"Now that you mention it…" Recovered from the dog-shaped projectile that was thrown at her earlier, Yang put her hand under her chin and examined the earring much like Ruby was.

"It's just a gift from someone important to me," Jaune confirmed – putting it back on and not enjoying the sensation. "I wouldn't be the person I am today without him, so…"

"So he's a complete ass?" Yang quipped, making Pyrrha push her playfully in a soft way of telling her off while the rest of the room tittered quietly.

Strangely enough, Jaune was the one who was laughing the loudest. "Don't worry; he is. The biggest ass you could ever imagine." Earning a few more chuckles, it was Jaune's turn to spin the glass bottle of doom and destruction – noting to himself that this was quite a bit less destructive than he was thinking it was going to be.

As the bottle span around, the blond might have guessed it was because they were more respectful of each other's boundaries, at least to an extent. When you had contenders like Coral thrown into the mix, you dreaded who would land on the other end of the spin. She was always the most twisted and screwed-up of the bunch, and she would happily admit that. It certainly was mirrored in her literature, that was for sure. Hazel and Jade weren't much better either.

At least Amber's were always really sweet or easy. Her truths were questions like 'how much do you love me?' (to which everyone reminded her that wasn't how Truth or Dare worked) and her dares were always 'give me a hug'. Jaune missed the honey-like adorableness of his youngest sister.

In any case, the bottle neck craned towards Nora, who looked at it excitedly with a wide smile. "Ugh, _finally,_" she groaned. "Dare! C'mon, Jauney!"

"Well, Nora seems very… invested." Eyebrow raised in intrigue, Weiss noted idly to the rest of the group.

"Nora has a strong-willed and competitive spirit," Pyrrha went on to explain on behalf of her teammate. "Is that not right, Ren?" As the boy nodded, the crimson-haired girl inclined her head to the side freely, "See?"

Weiss still didn't seem very convinced that it was simply such, and neither did Jaune, but he had the willingness to find out just how _strong-willed_ Nora was. Gathering cans of soda around him, Jaune tossed one to Ren, Pyrrha, Yang and Ruby – each one catching the object with a variety of expressions.

With a purple-labelled can in hand, a smile crept up onto his face as he cracked it open with a sharp hiss. "You think you can down five soda streams at the same time?"

Her teal eyes widened. "Can I?! More like can you aim them? Because if the answer is _yes,_ bring it!"

Muscles tensing to push himself up, Jaune heard Pyrrha speak worriedly as she did the same. "Are you sure that this is safe?"

She yelped slightly as Yang punched her arm slightly, her fist coming into contact with the bare skin on the literal redhead's shoulder while she walked past. "Safe? Yeah. Tidy?" Over her shoulder, she gave a shrug. "Nope."

"This doesn't sound like a good idea…" Pyrrha lamented once again, the feeling of social pressure pushing her towards the small pentagon surrounding the standing Nora, gob open wide – standing a few heads below everyone else, making the entire process seem quite easy (much to her obvious concern).

"You were the one who complimented her will, you know," Jaune pointed out – preparing the grape soda can at arm's length above the awaiting ginger.

Through some unknown force, Pyrrha's own arm was matching Jaune's in height, slowly followed by the other's as Ruby stood on her tiptoes while using the dog pillow from earlier as something of a footstool. Even like that, she appeared to struggle immensely.

"Yes," Pyrrha admitted somewhat bashfully, "but I would feel awfully bad if any if the drink got onto her- oh my gods, it's already happening!" True enough, they had started without her express awareness; five streams of multi-coloured, fizzy liquid flowing from sky-high into Nora's mouth.

And, fair play to her, she was downing all of it like a damn champ.

Yang began to chant a drinking song that Jaune had heard once or twice before, prompting him to join in the lyrics. However, the melody was simple and recognisable that others were content with just clapping along or humming to the shanty as the small girl continued to down litres of fizzy pop.

As the last note was hung onto, the remaining drops of soda fell into her mouth and – with a final gulp – Nora released the beast within: a mighty, forceful, absolutely _horrific_ burp from the depths of her soul. It ripped apart the very air, to the point where a fruity-smelling wave had Jaune covering his face with his elbow to mask it out.

The culprit froze for a second, before shrugging her shoulders and chuckled unapologetically. "…Whoops?"

Breaking the disbelief in the room of the pure animalistic energy within the tiny girl, Yang just nodded her head in appreciation of the fact. "_Nice._"

Disbelief shattered, laughter soon broke afterwards.

Intense relief in her face and arms, Ruby panted heavily as she dropped her can weakly, "That was awesome, Nora! Hold on, lemme get my breath…" The reason for her exhaustion was leaning towards the fact that she had to constantly stretch herself to match the height of the others rather than due to laughter, seemingly.

Even so, Jaune was halfway curious, halfway still in a teasing mood. "Too high, Ruby?"

"No!" She defended instantly, prepping her arm back to throw the pillow that was still under her feet. Realising this, she reached under her to remove it and regretted doing so as it removed what few inches in height it had to offer. "It was _not_. If anything, you're all too way too tall…"

"Don't let Weiss hear you say that," the blond boy added before heading back to his place in the circle.

The gods of comedic timing must have been smiling upon them as Weiss shot her head up. "Hm?"

A hand was waved dismissively as Jaune quelled her concern, "Don't worry about it, Weiss. Don't worry about it."

"Why are you looking at me like some… miserable creature?"

His mouth pulled back into a smile, eyes closed and all. This actually wasn't half bad, Jaune convinced himself. Everyone seemed at ease, taking in the atmosphere and just enjoying the moment. There was no worrying about the future. No worrying about what Fate or Destiny could have in store for you. Simply just fun. The purest kind.

All this in mind, all Jaune could say to the confused girl was: "Don't worry about it."

/-/

The rest of the night went off without a hitch.

Dares and truths got more intense as time passed but nothing that surpassed the displeasure of the orders and instructions of his sisters. The worst he probably got was when Ren dared him to quote-unquote: "Confess your undying love to Yang".

Now, it was no secret at this point that the two had a pretty shaky start and things weren't exactly smooth-sailing between them but in the heat of the moment and the adrenaline of the dare was enough to set Jaune off on a crusade. On his hands and knees he started to list things that may or may not have been true about the blonde girl and how much he wanted to go out with her.

Jaune wasn't the smoothest of operator, at least when it came to girls, though it was all a game, and everyone knew it, so it wasn't the hardest thing in the world. He started to renounce all of the things that his sisters loved to hear – her flowing hair, captivating lilac orbs, her outgoing and get-going attitude. Again, it was all just Truth or Dare.

That's what he thought, anyway.

It actually proved to be quite effective when he looked back up to the girl, her face in an embarrassed flush – red adorning her cheeks, staring at Jaune with her mouth open wide. Ruby rolled around on the carpet, tittering like an out-of-breath fairy and Pyrrha – who was sitting on the other side of Yang – covered her mouth with her hand in surprise.

Bringing his gaze around the room, people were either in shock or losing it at Jaune's very well-put together confession. Weird how the person who seemingly had the most experience in the romance department was so easy affected by praise and adoration.

The entire ordeal concluded with Yang, concisely express her disinterest in an aggravated manner – still seeming a little hot under the collar, giving him a very similar effect. It was a game, damn it! Blake teased Yang, seeming very satisfied doing so, if any repressed urges and resurfaced due to his words – making Jaune shoot his partner a "oh, for the love of everything light and dark, please stop" look.

Thankfully, the blonde folded her arms in a huff and reinforced that Jaune was still an idiot.

Fair enough, Jaune would say.

A close second was when Nora dared him to admit who he thought was the most attractive. _That_ one was hard. Not because he didn't know who to say but more along the lines of he didn't really know how to say it. In the end, a mixture of truth and basic survival instinct came out with his answer.

"Pyrrha," he said at the time, not really meeting anyone's gaze due to his fear of looking like an even bigger of a dork than he already appeared.

Pyrrha was undeniably one of the most gorgeous girls he had met in his life. If he had a gun to his head, Jaune would have admitted Weiss – seeing as though she was more his taste – but the boy had just had something resembling a heart to heart with her; it would be weird just to come out and say that afterwards.

Then again, this was Beacon. Every single female you saw walking down the corridors was like an eight out of ten at worst – and that was no exaggeration.

Reactions were, again, quite varied. Understandably, Pyrrha started to glow brightly, hiding herself while her partner and Nora began to tease and poke at her. For whatever reason, Ruby began to clutch at something in front of her, air it seemed, as she looked back and forth between herself and the older girl. Weiss did much the same, much to his confusion.

Blake was uninterested, continuing her book while Ren held a mysterious smile on his face – admiring the scene unfolding in front of him. Strange.

"Hey, Jaune, it's your turn; spin it already." Yang reminded him. "Huh?" Her gaze darted to his hands, only just noticing him reading something on his scroll. "Who you texting? Family?"

Bluish-eyes reflected the light of the device before it was put away, a sad essence clouding his pupils. "Yeah," said quietly. "Something like that, I guess."

"Well, whatever. Spin it to win it, baby!"

"You got it…" For what felt like the umpteenth time of the night, Jaune let the bottle rip. Every set of eyes followed the bottle, the end landing on the exception to that statement. Now every set of eyes tracked the next victim.

The girl right next to him.

Her luminescent amber orbs peeked over the top of her book. "What?"

Putting a finger to her chin, Ruby noted to the side, "I feel like Blake has somehow avoided being picked for Truth or Dare for, like, the entire night…"

"It certainly seems that way," added Pyrrha.

Quite helpfully, Nora decided to whisper very loudly, "Kinda like she's _invisible._"

"Okay…" Turning his head back to Blake, Jaune thought carefully for his move in response to either option the raven-haired girl would choose. "Truth or dare, Blake?"

Blake folded the edge of the page before closing her book with a heavy slap of the hardback. It fell onto the carpet with a softer sound as Blake leaned on a hand with her bare legs saddled to the side. "Truth," she said – directly to the point.

Somewhere across from him, Yang faux-whispered "boring…" but Jaune took a breath, sure that she would be singing a different tune in a second.

"Have you ever killed someone before?"

…

"…What?" Weiss was the one to speak out – arms folded and eyes bewildered.

"Yeah…" Yang was next, shifting slightly and scratching her shoulder. "Gotta admit, that came out of nowhere."

"Jaune?" Metallic orbs widened and meeting his own. They wanted to know what exactly was going on.

Perhaps it wasn't the best course of action but, being this deep into the hold he dug, there was no point in backing out now. The words came out easy, like a river. "Hey, it's a game, you know? It's not like the answer's going to be _yes,_ right?"

Mouth coming down in a slight frown, Ruby tilted her head cautiously, "That's true, but…" Her head fluttered wearily to her dark-haired companion. "Blake?"

Blake gave a quick look to Ruby, her shining silver eyes basically pleading her for an answer, before meeting his own gaze and replying, "No. Of course I haven't."

Letting out an awkward laugh, Jaune scratched the back of his head – letting the stiff tension in the air ease with his own dismissal of the subject. "Right? You know, in my head, this was a whole lot funnier…"

Ren patted his back in a pitiful and playful manner, a soft smile on his features as Yang deadpanned, "_Yeah._ Because death is absolutely _hilarious_. Nice one, man." Flickering her lilac pupils to Blake, she added, "Spin it, girl. Your first truth or dare of the night, get a _little_ excited."

A complicated mixture of emotions flashed across her face as she leant forward for the bottle. "Depends on who it lands on," Blake said – twirling the green bottle along the carpet once more.

The conversations continued as the bottle landed on… someone. Jaune wasn't paying attention. He was trying to prevent the sweat on his brow from hitting the floor; trying to keep up the mask – the forced smile. To the majority of the group, he was certain that his sudden question went forgotten as the game continued. To the majority.

Even if he could feel the unease of a dark air around the room, feeling for his face and body. The soul of another wondering. Questioning. Racing.

Blake was lying.

/-/

"Rumour has it you and me are getting transferred."

"For real? Where to?"

One masked individual turned to the other, placing down a crate of goods into an organised pile before answering, "Vale, I hear. Something about working with new forces."

The one who was sat reclined back, legs spread forward with their arms back. He appeared to stare into the forest canopy, laying eyes on the sky where it would let him. "Boss' been a little different lately, don't you think?" He hummed.

From their standing position, the other figure sat down – back against the crates he had laid down prior and replied, "You think so?"

"Mhm. After the Belladonna daughter disappeared. Asked him about it."

Somewhat interested, the one by the grey, industrial looking crates looked more intently as he pushed, "And?"

Snorting, the answer came out somewhat distasteful, "Told me she wanted to spend time back home in Menagerie with her folks, after giving me the sharpest of daggers first. Hell, thought I was about to _actually _get stabbed myself."

"Yikes, dude. Adam's a great leader 'n all but you do _not_ want to get on his bad side."

"Don't have to remind me; I won't be forgetting anytime soon," he laughed lightly before coming forward and crossing his legs. "He seemed to really like her – the Belladonna girl, I mean."

"Good riddance, I say. Her parents abandoned the cause. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

"Seems like it," the other agreed before lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "Just don't let the boss catch you saying that."

Rolling his eyes behind the porcelain ornament, the other drew a finger down one of the eyes. "Did you see his mask? It down the left slit for some reason. He probably repaired it, but you can see a faint outline."

"Huh? No, I haven't. Maybe it was after he broke up with the Belladonna girl."

They shared a laugh. A laugh that lasted all but two seconds before a loud ringing began to chime across the wooden walls of the forest. It came from atop the branches, a figure crouched low and staring at his trouser pockets in calculated disbelief. A cacophony of hard drum beats and shredding guitar runs.

It ended with an annoyed _beep._ "You've got to be fucking kidding me…"

"Hey!" One of the masked men shouted, pointing upwards into the under canopy while his companion reached for his weapon in a scurry. "Who the hell are you?"

"I swear, if it's Ozpin I'm going to _actually_ kill him."

A blur of tattered red and silver patterns flashed down under a rain of viridian petals from the branch it had once perched itself on.

/-/

"I'm going to kill you."

_"Come now, Qrow,"_ the voice over the line soothed, _"we both know that isn't possible."_

"Might not be but I can still damn well try."

Ozpin chuckled softly, the tone not any less wise or comforting over the device within the huntsman's hands. _"Well, I won't stop you, though I do have a final request."_

Because of course he does. Because of course he would ask something else of the poor, poor man while he was still on an information gathering mission from the very same person that was now trying to giving him another task.

Standing over the bodies of two unconscious White Fang members, Qrow rolled his eyes and focused on what Ozpin had to say while surveying the small campsite. "Go on then, Oz, hit me."

_"As you know, the new academic year to Beacon has started." _Qrow hummed in response, squatting down and rummaging through the contents of the crates with his scroll tucked in his shoulder. _"And there is a certain student that you seemed to personally recommend who has started along with it." _

The huntsman pulled out a case, seeming filled with vials for the sole purpose of dust extraction – looking at it with intent and then decided to throw it over his shoulder. Qrow stood up straight, taking the scroll in hand and answering, "Did I? I just said he'd be at Initiation." Pulling a face to no-one in particular, he added almost worriedly, "He _did_ make it to Initiation right?"

_"Yes, Qrow, he did. Passed, in addition to the fact."_

"Phew," Qrow sarcastically wiped the imaginary sweat off his brow. "Scared that all of my work had been for nothing for a sec."

_"See, that is where my request lies,"_ tone growing more prominent in the only way a man like Ozpin could make it.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Chuckling, Qrow could tell how the man over the scroll leaned forward into his chair with his fingers interlinked as the other reassured. "Maybe you will, friend. Maybe you will."

/-/

As it turns out, the reassurance was for naught. The greying man pressed the quick-dial contact under the name: "Bozzpin" (pretty clever, he thought) and tapped the edge of his shoe on the ground expectantly. In the time he had to mull over the decision brought onto him, Qrow was able to dispose of the two Fang members and wrangle up the evidence that Ozpin probably wanted to see – all of it laid out for the pictures he had taken.

He was relieved to hear Ozpin's voice on the other end for a change, glad to know that he wasn't ghosting him like he was ordered to do to James. _"I take it you've come to a decision, then?"_

"Yup," Qrow agreed, popping the 'p'. "For the record, I don't like the idea – but what's the harm, I guess. Long as you're under control-"

"Qrow, when am I ever _not_ under control?" A brew of an offended register and a playful one made its way over the scroll.

"Guess you got a point. I'll leave it to you, Oz. Oh, and I'm going to be sending over some evidence over the secure line – make sure to take a look at it."

The voice on the other end hummed in acknowledgement. "I will, thank you, Qrow. They say roosting season is on the horizon, by the way."

"God damn it…" Stupid Ozpin and his dumb code language. Did he have to link it to birds, for fuck's sake? "I get it…" Qrow sounded defeated in tone, even if he was internally somewhat glad.

"Ta-ta."

Like that, the conversation was cut with a short and sweet click. Qrow sighed, taking the scroll from his ears and changing the application over to the messenger one and tapped away to send the pictures of the dust-extraction gear. There were tons of it. Like, literal tons, really. A pretty large scale operation, it seemed. And in Vale?

Ozpin was sure to be interested.

Finished with that, Qrow backed out of the secure line and browsed over his contacts lightly – specifically one just below the top one, the most recent one, under the name "Kid3" and just above two contacts, both named "Kid1". His finger dragged across the screen before tapping once.

_"Yo. Little birdie told me that there's something going on in school. Would appreciate you doing a little work for me. I spy with my little eye, something gathering from shadows. Might not be available. Free to go to head. –Crow"_

He tapped out as quick as he tapped to read the message he sent. Without out any doubt, it would be read loud and clear and understood just as well.

But, despite that, Qrow just wanted to know what the hell Ozpin was thinking.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Just what exactly _is_ he thinking, Qrow? You and me both.**

**Our first appearance of Qrow in the present timeline! Hold your applause, one of you might somehow combust into flames due to the kinetic energy. Only before getting struck by lightning, of course. Yes, the unluckiest-luckiest man in the world is working for Ozpin (woaah) and is still in Mistral (woaah). Ozpin and his unnecessarily cryptic ways of relaying messages, too. **

**Wonder where Jaune's question suddenly came from. They were enjoying a nice game of Truth or Dare, for goodness sake. People these days. I actually quite enjoyed writing that fun little segment in the middle. Writing inter-team antics is a real treat, honestly. Fun _and_ cements relations. Or getting them closer to breaking. Either or, really.**

**On the topic of Raven (because I think some people may not agree with her chain of reasoning); she is an older sister. A mother too, but focus on the former for now. While she can rant on about how she cut the ties of her past for strength, that just isn't the case, is it? **

**Her Semblance remains active, meaning that the ties that hold them together remain. She can never truly sever them. Whether it's a technicality of her Semblance, where once you make a bond its permanent, or a technicality of her mentality – the point remains that the relations remain. Hence, she may still feel responsible for the actions of her idiot little brother. I imagine them to have grown up in quite a rough background, making the two think that the only ones they could rely on were themselves and each other. Is it a headcanon? Undoubtedly. But it is a headcanon I like.**

**I could delve deeper but I don't want to pad out these ending notes. Instead, I'll leave you with the reminder that STRQ and Nicholas' team (name not revealed) _were, _in fact, sister teams. Ask yourself what that means.**

**With the entire pandemic sweeping the globe, I do urge you to keep yourself safe. Keep yourself healthy, too. Wash your hands, etc. – you've heard it all before, just make sure you actually adhere to professional advice.**

**As always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	13. Chapter 13: Birds of a(nother) Feather I

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello? Is anyone there? Yes, hello, I'm here. I'm writing. Man, the whole self-isolation quarantine thing seems to be getting to everyone. Some people more so than others. Personally, I've just been being a general potato and working on stuff. Quite obviously, that didn't seem to include _writing._ But we're here now and that's what matters.**

**Since it's been awhile, some might not remember what happened last chapter so I'll give you a short refresher. _Ahem._**

**Nicholas and Raven meet. It was kinda awkward and it's pretty obvious that they don't like each other. The tension was high, and no - not the sexual kind.**

**Truth or Dare happened and the conclusion of that was way more awkward since Jaune doesn't know what discreet means. The tension between him and Blake is high, and no – not the sexual kind.**

**Qrow makes his first present timeline appearance and Ozpin seems to be asking for a favour in the form of a text to a certain blond teenager he may or may not have had a hand in training.**

**Now that you're surely caught up, I would personally like to thank the returning readers for… well, returning and continuing to read despite the updates sometimes being wack. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm still getting back into the swing of writing this story but I hope it's up to standard for you all.**

**Let's see what our hero's up to now, hm? Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Jaune was getting pummeled again and again. A rain of elbows coming down onto his face, to which all he could do was hold his arms up in a pitiful excuse of defending himself. His sword and shield lay scattered on the hard mat, way out of reach of the poor boy – leaving him with only his bare hands.

His assailant roared like some sort of animal, yelling obscenities; a horrid symphony that accompanied the onslaught he was subjecting his victim to. Clad in a full-suit of patterned and engraved armour, it was obvious that getting out from the straddled position would be near impossible for Jaune if the aggressor didn't let up their assault.

Watching from the sidelines, silver orbs could do nothing but plead for it to end. It looked brutal, so brutal, as punches were thrown into the mix, hitting Jaune from the side of the head and through the gaps in his arms. Similarly, her teammates looked onto the carnage with expressions of disbelief and disgust as the only boy on their team seemed powerless to end the suffering he was subject to.

"What is he doing…?" Pyrrha muttered from the seat next to her. "Jaune wouldn't let himself get... overwhelmed like this."

Even Yang had a snarl on her face, seemingly offended at the sight on the mats below them. "The hell? Why isn't he throwing anything back? He's going to lose if he doesn't do anything..."

She didn't need to tell Ruby twice. While the younger sister heard the comments of her friends around her, the urge to get down there and stop the whole thing herself was hindered by something stronger. Something that told her that doing so would be a bad idea. Her begging eyes prayed harder.

_Do something, Jaune!_

/-/

"Hello, again!" A certain tiara-wearing redhead greeted as she sat down at the table where the rest of her team and RASB resided.

"Hi," Jaune replied nonchalantly, sitting opposite her and picking at his pancakes with little to no intent of actually eating them. He had gotten so used to living and working off of nothing that suddenly having a pile of freshly-cooked, buttery and syrupy goodness on his plate kind of seemed surreal.

Pyrrha began to dig into her own breakfast, an assortment of berries and oats within a bath of milk. It wasn't Pumpkin Pete's but it the stuff wasn't exactly _good, _good for you, so Jaune didn't really blame the girl. You know, even if she _was_ on the cover. "Last night sure was an experience," she said, spoon full of granola. "Don't you agree?"

He shrugged in response, eyes drifting over the rest of his teammates. "It was an experience, that's for sure."

Laughing softly, the girl opposite seemed to agree, already finished with the spoon's contents. "I, for one, thought it quite fun. I haven't had a sleepover with friends in… well, ever!"

"Why's that?"

To Jaune's raised eyebrow, Pyrrha's laugh took a nervous edge as she waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

Lie, while her mouth could, her Aura could not. Jaune decidedly dropped the topic, however. It wasn't really any of his business and neither didn't it seem very serious. In due time, perhaps, she would open up to him. "If you say so, Pyrrha." His left hand picked up the knife on the table and cut into his stack of pancakes before shoving it into his mouth and savouring the sweetness.

He could get used to this – the whole, having actual food and not out-of-date, stale rations thing.

Team RASB and PYRN were clad in their uniforms, not yet in combat gear for their class with Miss Goodwitch in the afternoon. Weiss had told them all, quite informingly in the morning, that they had World History with Professor Oobleck in the morning after breakfast. Speaking of…

Turning his head to the side, Weiss was daintily taking sips from newly-ground coffee from the counter with a plate of small sandwiches in front of her. More notably, however, her regular white scrunchie was missing from her hair – letting it all flow down naturally like snowfall in mid-winter. It was the result of Ren's dare from last night, he knew.

Jaune expressed as much to himself when he had first laid eyes on her but, really, Weiss was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. And while the second part of his initial impression conflicted that notion (that being she seemed like a pretty bitchy girl), the easiness of her hair being down was doing things to him.

Those _things_ were easily spotted by a grinning Yang over the table.

Her lilac eyes were on fire with her internal plotting as she basically yelled across the table, despite them being less than a metre away. "My, my, Jaune. Didn't know you had a thing for the short, icy and cold types."

"W-what?" Damn it. He was still a growing teenager, for the love of all the gods. Despite everything he had done and been through, one could forgive the boy for the rising heat under his collar and the dots of pink forming on his cheeks. "What are you taking about?"

"Hm?" Weiss looked up at him for second before turning to Yang – straight, long hair flowing like a frozen waterfall. "Did you say something about me?"

Jaune's hazy eyes were on their hands and knees to Yang's two lilac arbiters. Ultimately, she shrugged and dismissed the white-haired girl's concern. "Nah. Just saw Jaune checking out some random chick walking by."

"Huh? No I wasn't!" His face twisted into deeper embarrassment; that wasn't much better, damn it! He felt the urge to wipe the satisfied smirk off of Yang's face with Crocea Mors, lamenting over the fact that she wasn't with him right now.

Without even looking up from her book, Blake dully noted, "Didn't know you were the jealous type, Yang. Did his heartfelt confession make you grow an attachment you aren't telling us about?"

"S-shut up!" Yang retorted, pushing off the laughs of Pyrrha and Nora with her own voice. "It was a damn game…"

Despite the other conversation, Weiss simply rotated her head painfully slow towards him and doled out a look of disdain before going back to her breakfast. Not a great reaction but, then again, not the worst. Jaune slumped slightly, taking what he could get and mumbled to himself all the while.

A small nudge from his other side revealed a smiling Ruby – strawberries and cream in a pretty arrangement on her plate while a glass of milk resided next to it. "Sorry about Yang. Though, if she's teasing you, that kinda means that she's warming up to you." She looked hesitant before shrugging nonchalantly. "Kinda."

"Right…" Jaune replied. Sure didn't feel like it. It is what it is, though, he had to conclude.

Last night wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He slept on one side of the room, near Ren, while the girls slept on the other side. Honestly, he would fully admit that the foreign boy was quite the confidant. They talked about quite a lot. Nothing too intrusive about his past, of course – Ren immediately seemed to notice that it was something of a sore spot for Jaune and preventing from asking any more questions, which the blond was thankful for.

They did talk about their pasts though. He came from a Mistrali village, destroyed by Grimm, and was one of the survivors. Unfortunately, both his parents died – but he did seem to have Nora with him and, to him, that seemed like it was enough. They survived by themselves for the longest of times, never really having a place to call their own. Doing such made Ren quite detached, somewhat emotionally distant and he actually theorises that Nora built her own personality around the fact to fix that about him.

It was amazing, honestly. Some people were just dealt a shitty hand but never folded. And for people like Ren and Nora, it appeared to pay off.

In return, Jaune shared stories about his family. Nothing about Vul or what came after or even him running away. Jaune just wanted to reminisce the simpler, easier times. Something that Ren understood and went along with.

If there was anything to take away from that night, it was Ren really was like the brother he had always wished for. Despite them only knowing each other for, what, three or so days? That spoke volumes about their chemistry.

The more positive memories of last night shifted to more skeptical and precarious ones. Jaune chewed slightly harder on the pancakes in his mouth before swallowing, all the while thinking about what Blake said in response to him in that single round of Truth or Dare.

_'No. Of course I haven't.'_ The face can be a mask to the heart – but your soul will always remain true. It was a fundamental rule of Remnant. Blake was lying, he knew that much. It was only confirming his suspicions from the day they first met at Beacon.

And the message that Vul sent him…

He tried calling the number back in the morning. Met with the 'not in service' treatment, of course. Trust his mentor to be off the radar like that. Though, it made Jaune question why exactly Vul wanted to out a spy in Beacon. He was a graduated huntsman from here, sure, but it didn't really answer his question – at least that was what Jaune thought.

A spike in the essence of the air surrounding him caused Jaune's attention to snap forward and to the side. Blake sat with a book in hand, casually scanning the pages with her glowing eyes of gold.

What? Was he just being paranoid?

No. There was intent of something present for a split second, that was a fact. Jaune pulled his gaze back down to the plate in front of him, trying to emulate the same sentiment as his partner: nonchalance.

Interestingly enough, they weren't sat next to each other. Nobody seemed to really realise apart from the pair themselves. Jaune knew that Blake was at the very least suspicious. Whether it was because he was getting closer to her true nature or because he was simply curious was a different question entirely.

It was first thing in the morning and yet he could feel the pit in his stomach grow, making the pancake he just swallowed pass right through. Undoubtedly, there was now a tension between the two. And, right now, Jaune didn't know what to do about it.

"Hey…" Nora reached over the table, arms stretched and flat on the surface as her voice was squeaking like some sort of mouse. "You gonna eat that?"

Jaune's head rose to meet the teal gaze of the ginger before following her line of sight towards his own plate – a half-finished stack of glazed dough. Pushing it towards her, he conceded with a small laugh. "Go for it, Nora."

She lit up, swiping the tray that was moved closer to her greedy little paws. She gasped. "Thanks, Jauney!"

"No problem," he replied, relieved at the distraction that Nora unintentionally gave him. She was unknowingly reliable in that sense.

"Hey! Can you please stop?"

A chorus of laughter as a cocky voice, one that pissed of Jaune despite its source being unknown to him, responded to the female-sounding plea. "See, lads? Told you they were real! Haha!"

"Ew, what a freak!" Dumb said.

"What's even the point in having two sets of ears, anyway? It's just unnatural." Dumber moaned.

"Guys, do we have to do this? Like, for real? What's she even done to us?" An actually reasonable voice asked.

The interaction was enough to have Jaune look over his shoulder, laying eyes on a team of four boys. They looked vaguely familiar though nothing particular about them really rang a bell. If anything, the sight of the team bubbled some of the purest anger he had felt in while.

A fierce glower decorated his face as he saw the largest of the boys hold a rabbit faunus by the ears, pulling on them without any sort of concern for the poor girl he had his grimy clutches around.

"Idiots…" he found himself whispering under his breath, drawing the attention of Ruby – who swivelled in the same direction.

In contrast, the largest boy, the one with short brown hair, seemed to almost yell back at his teammate. "Her kind's done enough, Sky. They're animals. Beast people," he spat. "The world would be a whole lot better without them, don't you think?" Seemingly asking his victim, the boy pulled the faunus' ears once more and earning a yelp in the process.

"Cardin…" The boy, assumingly Sky, almost pleaded. So Cardin was his name? Sounded like a moron's name, at least to Jaune.

Wincing, the girl begged again, "P-please just let me go. I don't want any trouble."

Cardin scoffed, "Yeah? Funny. You should have thought of that before waging a whole damn war on us humans, you dirty animal."_ Idiot. Doesn't he realise that people like him are the reason that the White Fang even exist?_ And if the White Fang never existed he wouldn't have experienced half of the torture of the past year. So many people would have remained living_. People like… people like Lyn._

The jaded line of thought snapped as Cardin's voice repeated, more surprised than before. "Hey, who the hell are you?"

Jaune himself snapped to his side, only to see a flutter of rose petals floating down onto the cafeteria floor. Attention ripping back to where the faunus girl was, there stood Ruby Rose – defiant and proud. Not exactly stood _tall,_ but there she stood nonetheless.

"What the- Ruby!" Yang stood, hands on the table and ready to launch off – only to realise a second later that someone else was on the case.

All the while, a burning amber intensity stared down the situation with the utmost attention to detail, just barely peaking over the brown cover of a book.

/-/

"Leave her alone!"

"What was that, kid? Sorry, but it's a little hard to hear you down there. Not like I'd take orders from some brat who snuck into Beacon, anyway.

Gah! Who did this guy think he was? She didn't sneak into Beacon

Ruby stood facing the four boys and their victim. She wasn't about to let this poor girl suffer just for being who they were. It's not like they could control what they were born as – they don't deserve _this_ kind of treatment! Just because you have a tail, or an extra set of ears, or even a particularly fluffy head of hair, nobody should have the right to act like this towards you.

Silver eyes looked warmly to the brown-haired girl's chocolate ones. They were surprised and filled with another indiscernible feature. Thanks? Concern? Ruby wanted it to be hope.

"She hasn't even done anything to you!" Ruby reasoned, leaning forward. "What's the point in making her life miserable? Is it somehow making yours better?"

"Yeah, Cardin," a grey-haired boy agreed meekly. "I say we just leave it be. I don't wanna get into any trouble."

The bigger boy, Cardin, looked at his teammate in disbelief before hardening his gaze. "Sky, shut up, man." He brought his eyes back to Ruby, their two heights becoming very distinct as time passed. "What is it to you, huh? Why would me letting this… _animal_ go matter to you?" As if to emphise, Cardin yanked once more on the faunus' ears – earning a yelp.

Undeniable fury burned in the little girl at the sight. She was going to be the best huntress Remnant has ever seen; how could she do that if she couldn't save one person right in front of her? "Stop that!"

An arrogant smirk crawled onto Cardin's face – squirming up disgustingly. "Or what?"

"Or I'm going to have to call for Miss Goodwitch and, really, nobody wants that – do they?" A casual, male voice introduced itself without any trouble. It was familiar, it was calming, it was-

"Jaune?"

Jaune gave her a subtle wink before standing next to the red-caped girl and starting a chain of reason of his own. "Now, you're free to have your own opinion - whatever that opinion may be. It's none of my business, really." The register of his voice was monotone and apathetic-sounding. Trailing the hands of Cardin judgementally, he seemed to quite obviously not approve of the slightly larger boy's actions and conveyed so as he spoke again, "Really, it isn't. Though, taking it to the level of physical harassment isn't something I'd advise. In fact, I'd say it's breaking school rules – probably a few standardised laws, if not that."

"What are you talking about?" Cardin squeezed out, an annoyed scowl on his face.

Shrugging, Jaune continued, "All I'm saying is that if Miss Goodwitch caught wind of this, you'd be lucky getting off with a suspension. And, again," he leaned in, almost mockingly. "We don't want that, do we?"

"Why you-"

The boy was cut off as one of his teammates, one with a green mohawk grabbed his shoulder. "Cardin…" He nodded to Jaune's hip, where he kept that blade of his tucked under his belt. If Ruby remembered right, it – sorry, _her _– name was Crocea Mors. Guess he kept it on him like she did her hood. "He's the one that killed that Emportusk, remember?"

Cardin's eyes seemed to widen slightly, coming to the recollection of yesterday's lecture with Professor Port. Snorting, he pulled his shoulder free from the skinner boy's hand and whispered, "Beginner's luck… hey, wait a second. You're that scrawny kid that thought he could get away with charging Sky yesterday."

A quiet shriek from the girl as his grip tightened on her brown ears. Ruby felt the urge to just barge through the larger boy like a rose petal covered train at the mere sight. Apparently, Jaune could tell that was her immediate plan – barely able to prevent her from doing so by tugging slightly at the hem of her cape.

"Pretty sure I apologised for that," Jaune replied. Silver eyes were drawn to his leather-gloved hand as it placed itself onto his hip.

Teeth showing, the slightly taller boy didn't seem to care for the blond's reasoning. "First you disrespect me and my team, then get lucky in class – only for you to stand up for this… animal? Bet you think you're something special, huh?"

A grey-haired boy seemed to gain a sudden fright; fear flashing across his features. "Cardin?"

Both Jaune and Cardin ignored him, locked in something of a stalemate. Cloudy sea-blue eyes held firm, however, as the blond answered the other's rhetorical question. "Not particularly. But you're no different from me, in that regard."

"Cardin, dude…" Sky, if Ruby heard correctly from earlier, tried weakly once more to gain their leader's attention. What had him so terrified? Similarly, the other boys seemed to back away ever so slowly from their boss.

"I'm _leagues_ better than you," Cardin growled like some strange, wild beast. Quite ironic, really. Yes, Ruby knew what that meant. No, Weiss was _not_ rubbing off on her.

A very, very slight hesitation as Jaune made to retort. Eyebrows quirking upwards for a fraction of a second, his surprised expression morphed into one of smug satisfaction. "Maybe. But are you leagues better than-"

He didn't even get to finish as a feminine voice shrieked like a banshee from behind them, forcing Ruby to almost fall on the floor in sheer shock. Instead settling for stumbling forward with her hands over her ears, the voice yelled, "_VELVET!_ Outta the way, freshmen-" A brunette, wearing a very stylish beret combined with a pair of sunglasses pushed past Ruby and Jaune. In contrast to herself, Jaune seemed to expect the intrusion, stepping to the side before the new appearance even had the chance to shove him out of the way.

Ruby wasn't so lucky. The force of the new figure's push had her off balance, doubly-so as her hands were to her ears. Before she fell flat on her face, her friend caught her by the hood and hauled her back upright. "Phew…" Breathing a sigh of relief, her metallic orbs looked to Jaune, only to see him putting a finger to his lips and nodding back to where the girl went.

"Who the fu-"

Cut off – Cardin didn't even get to finish his rude inquiry as the undeniably fashionable girl stepped around, wrapped her claws around his fabric-covered forearm and _slammed_ her palm down onto his elbow while pulling at the other end. Suffice to say, it was enough to get him to remove his grip from the faunus' ears.

_Yikes,_ Ruby winced. Jaune crossed his arms, appearing very pleased with this turn of events. His blue eyes were soft, almost laughing at the situation at hand.

Cardin screamed. Very loud. The new girl pulled down her sunglasses, as if looking at a piece of mud staining the cafeteria floor as the significantly larger boy was brought to his knees while cradling his very much broken arm. "If I see your grubby little mitts on Velvet or my team, again, you're going to get off with a whole lot worse than a broken arm, got it?"

"M-my arm! You broke my arm!"

Even if Ruby couldn't exactly see her face, she could basically _feel _the eye roll. "You've got Aura, don't you? Spit on it and rub a little. In fact, I can help you out with the first one if you really want."

Man, this girl was absolutely brutal! And Ruby found herself in awe of her controlling pressure despite being in the conversation for little over a minute.

"Y-you…" Once again, Cardin didn't even get to finish his sentence as his team hauled their leader up and took the un-broken arm over their shoulders as they dragged him away. A pitiful sight, to be sure. Surprisingly, nobody else seemed to bat an eye at this whole interaction. That in itself made Ruby question whether to feel relieved or furious.

She settled for relieved, letting out a breath of the emotion as the fiasco came to a close.

"Coco…"

"Shh. I don't want to hear it." The girl named Coco silenced her friend, most certainly a member of her team. If she was the leader, that would surprise the caped-girl; she definitely seemed to have the spirit to be one. She twisted her head away, more disappointed than angry for whatever reason. Turning her head slowly towards Jaune and herself, she said menacingly, "As for you two…"

Realising she was talking to them, Ruby flinched backwards involuntarily, mouth quivering and incomprehensible wobbly sounds leaving her lips. "Aw-w-wha?"

It was a reaction that the beret-wearing girl seemed to find quite amusing, though. As she chuckled, her shoulders sagged and a lopsided grin came to her face. "_Relax, _kiddos. I saw what you guys were trying to do for my girl here. Don't worry. And, thank you." Her gaze flattened as she brought her plastic-covered eyes to her own friend, to which the other fidgeted and refused to reciprocate. "Velvet here isn't exactly the best at standing up for herself. Sometimes I wonder if she even has a spine…"

In response, the rabbit-eared girl – Velvet – muttered under her breath, "I just don't like unnecessary violence…"

Coco snapped her head back to Ruby and Jaune. "See?"

"It's fine," the boy next to her said, taking a step back. "If anything, it's _her_ you should be thanking."

"That so?" Her grin came back, somewhat reminding Ruby of Yang, as the ivory shine was pointed directly at her. Wait, her? "Well, thanks, kid. Real appreciated."

"Y-yeah! No problem!" While she didn't think that she did much rather than show up in the first place when someone was getting bullied, the smaller girl took the compliment in stride. Offering a hand, Ruby introduced herself as: "Ruby Rose! Soon to be _awesome_ huntress and leader of Team RASB! Oh, and this is Jaune."

"Hi," Jaune put a hand up in a small wave.

"Ruby and Jaune, huh? Nice to meet you, freshies. Name's Coco Adel. My partner here's Velvet. Say hey, girl."

"Hey, girl," Velvet quite aptly answered.

Coco nodded thoughtfully. "Should have seen that coming, really."

As Velvet brought a fist to cover her snickering, Ruby found herself somewhat in wonder of how fast the girl seemed to bounce back into such a cheery mood despite just getting bullied. It subsequently made her wonder if it was something of a common occurrence.

Continuing, Coco didn't let her partner's way with words stop her train of thought. "In any case, I really do gotta thank you two. If you guys need anything and see me around, just holler, kay? Ciao." She gave each of them a side-fist to the shoulder as she passed by the red and yellow duo as Velvet waved happily – mouthing 'thank you' as she followed her team leader.

"You wait 'till Yatsuhashi and Fox hear about this, bunny babe," Coco's distant voice rang out to Ruby and Jaune.

Similarly, Velvet's was audible but also accompanied by the wild waving of her arms in a panicked manner. "No, no, no! Please don't tell them, Coco! They might hurt someone!"

"Sorta the point, honey-bun."

Their figures disappeared through the massive double doors leading out of the cafeteria and only a second tap to the shoulder broke Ruby out of her daze. Jaune was smiling at her, pointing a thumb back to their own table where everyone looked extremely confused and somewhat impressed.

"You wanna head back now?"

Silver eyes drew downwards to stare at her black-leather boots in thought. Not of what was asked of her, the answer was quite simple. Rather, it was of what they were going to say to her and Pyrrha's teams.

"…Yeah."

Bowing down, he gestured both arms to their destination as he spoke, "Lead the way, m'lady."

But it was enough to make Ruby giggle as she very much let the trail of her red cloak do so.

/-/

"World history is a subject imperative to progression! Progression of our technology, civilisations, social ideals and, of course, strategy! However cliché you may think it sound, those who are not aware of history and the grandest failures of our past are doomed to repeat it! Thereby, I implore you all to listen intently in these lectures so that you may all prosper and learn from such mistakes!"

Their green-haired professor zipped left and right, somehow marking the massive chalkboard behind him with every motion and expecting them to take notes. Professor Oobleck was a very passionate man, it seemed. Was it 'Doctor'? If so, Jaune probably missed it and it's not like anybody could really blame him; the man was talking faster than a hoarder would run to a bargain sale.

Jaune's eyes were squinted, pen in hand and trying hard to comprehend anything and everything going on. The man was somehow able to drink from his flask, write on a chalkboard and lecture his class while rolling around at the speed of sound. If anything, that was what was engaging the boy – as opposed to the topic of the class.

Steam rose up from the head of the girl slumped beside him, drool spilling from the side of her mouth as her form began to slowly dip underneath the bench. Weiss was writing furiously, the poor device in her hand being run dry of its ink while her hand moved back and forth at insane speeds, sweat beading down the side of her head to just to keep up. Blake… well, Blake didn't really seem to care. She was listening with intent but refused to take notes.

Whether it was due to her inability or choice was unknown to Jaune but it sure did seem like the right idea.

Team PYRN behind them were undoubtedly struggling too, not like Jaune needed to turn around in order to tell. In fact, within the seconds his eyes darted left and right to his team he had already missed what the next topic of discussion was.

"The Great War!" _Nevermind,_ he thought, bringing his attention back to their energetic teacher in a rare state of stasis. "Undoubtedly one of the most influential moments in history for Remnant as a whole. While I am sure many of you in this class are already aware of what the event entails, it would be a disgrace to my PhD and my profession to deny talking about such a monumental moment in history!"

It was a topic that he had heard of once or twice before, possibly back in middle school at his hometown – Elis. While Jaune wasn't one for academics, he would actually listen in on classes every once in a blue moon. Granted, it caused him to flunk a truck ton of exams but who really cares about that stuff?

His mom. His mom really cared. Boy, did she show that she cared. Juniper Arc was one scary woman when she wanted to be. Jaune shuddered amidst the storm of words being hurled at him.

_Doctor_ Oobleck (with the PhD he was so very proud of) started to move his arm in a blur around the dark green chalkboard to mark it with streaks of white. "The Great War occurred eighty years ago and involved every single nation on Remnant's surface, to an extent." On the board, the words 'Vale', 'Vacuo', 'Mistral' and 'Mantle' were scratched on with a large line separating the two former and latter.

"Mantle…?" Jaune whispered quietly. Considering the other names, it would have made sense to put Atlas as the fourth kingdom. He thought it was pretty confusing, considering how his mind was running at less than a tenth of the speed of their professor's.

"Yes, _Mantle,_" whispered Weiss with fire. Her hand didn't stop moving across her notepad as she explained in an obviously annoyed fashion. "It was the former capital of the region to the north. It's Atlas now while the original city resides underneath it."

"Huh." Yep. Confusing.

The sounds of the steam rising off of Ruby's head were a soothing reminder to get back to listening to Doctor Oobleck; the man started to add to the board at ever-alarming rates. "Of course, the conflict originated between Mantle and Vale – where the two were on shaky terms to begin with. Mantle wished to control the population's emotional expression in order to control the presence of the Grimm." Drawing a line from Mantle, the doctor wrote 'suppress' in large, bold letters.

"Mistral, being steadfast allies with the northern kingdom, decided to implement their strategy to try and achieve the same goal – stopping the threat of the Grimm – by removing the majority self-expressing arts." Doctor Ooblecks arm outstretched between the two kingdoms' names, placing 'allies' over the line he created. "The Kingdom of Vale was not fond of such ideals but did not see fit to create a large-scale conflict about it at the time – what with it seeming over excessive. However, that all changed once attempts to expand territory turned into the unexpected escalation of what would be later dubbed 'The Great War'."

Some from the front row rose their hand meekly, to which the green-haired hyper-speed speaker noticed in an instant. Nodding his head and giving his permission, the person spoke, their rabbit ears popping up from their prone position. _Velvet?_ The voice proved Jaune's intuition true as Velvet asked, "What about Vacuo?"

Was Velvet supposed to be in the year? Doctor Oobleck didn't seem to find it strange as he replied with the epitome of energy – more so than even Nora. "Great question, Miss Scarlatina! While I will delve into the Kingdom of Vacuo's eventual involvement, they remained neutral for a majority of the war until pushed to take action. Now…" With the question answered, the green blur zoomed back to the chalkboard and wrote down words like 'tension' and 'expansion'. Slamming his palm onto the green of the surface, he continued, "Finger pointing and childish arguing has made it so that we do not truly know who struck first but, as mentioned earlier, territorial expansion caused both Vale and Mistral to invade islands from the East Coast of Sanus – our continent. Quite clearly, the rising tensions between Mantle, its ally Mistral, and Vale made it so that when the two nations met - something snapped."

Doctor Oobleck crushed the chalk in his hand, causing the white particles to fly in the air and for the majority of the class to shrink. "Just like that, the two sides fought with sword and spear over some menial chunks of rock in the middle of the ocean." Pulling another piece of chalk from god knows where, he turned back to the board. "What is both the intensely tragic but equally intriguing aspect of this skirmish, however, was the fact that every single soldier sent to conquer the islands perished. Dead." Ignoring the scarce gasps of surprise, the professor scrawled 'phenomena' onto the green slate and pointedly circled it several times. "In fact, the leaders of the respective regions were not even aware of the battle between them until scouts were sent to witness the sea of dried blood and the corpses that floated amongst it."

If Jaune didn't have a reason to be interested in the topic before, he sure did now. Truly, as the messily-dressed man in front of them said, that _was_ intriguing. Two entire armies dead? That sounded insane; the blond boy found himself taking notes avidly with relative ease to prior.

Come to think of it, Crocea Mors used by his great-great-grandfather in this exact war. The blade felt slightly heavier under his belt while Jaune morbidly wondered how many lives stained the its edge from that time. Hopefully, it wasn't as large a number as him, though – considering the scale of the war – the boy would have been hard-pressed to believe it.

For some reason, that relieved him. It was nice knowing that he wasn't solely responsible for sullying such a pristine weapon – however macabre that may have sounded to another.

"Evidence was there to suggest there _had_ be natives to those islands before the forces of Vale and Mistral had arrived, though there are no records of who they were or how advanced. Many theorise that they, too, unfortunately perished in the crossfire." That made Jaune stop taking notes, just to reflect on the words said. Innocents massacred in the wars and conflicts that mankind create… it was a tragic reality that existed to this day. Jaune would have known first-hand, of course. The voice of rising Oobleck made his pen move once more.

"This would not be the only time that such a mysterious event was to occur, I might add." Slapping his hand against the word 'phenomena', the very motion knocked over the erasers on the holder on the frame. "They began to happen again and again. Battles against Mistral and Vale or Vale and Mantle, the battlefields would regularly end with both sides leaving heavily injured with nothing gained until, one day, such devastating effects were only effecting the allied kingdoms of Mistral and Mantle."

Velvet spoke out once again, no hand raised, asking what everyone was undoubtedly thinking, "Why?"

Instead of reprimanding her for shouting out during a lecture, Doctor Oobleck decided to walk over to her bench _slowly_. His speed from earlier remained forgotten as he laid his hands onto the wooden surface and looked over the transparent material of his glasses, whispering excitedly, "_Exactly._" Turning his back, the teacher chose to _walk_ at a _reasonable pace_ while talking in a _conversational tone, _as if contemplating the question himself. "Many theorise it was a beast, or weapon of sorts, that was eventually controlled by the then King of Vale. Others believe that it was the _gods_ choosing sides between the mortals' quarrel. Some more grounded thinkers think it was Grimm being attracted to the negativity of the battlefield and the losing side. We just don't know."

Seeming almost solemn at the fact, Doctor Oobleck turned his head to the side in an act of thought – making Jaune think too. Such an important factor in the war, yet nobody knows exactly what it was? It just seemed silly. Unnatural. Wrong. He wasn't taught _this_ in middle school, though perhaps it was due to the incredulous and inexplicable amount of deaths on both sides rather than negligence on part of the school.

"Anyhow, the climax and subsequent end of the Great War occurred on Vacuan soil where the combined forces of all nations waged bloody conflict between each other over Vacuo's untapped dust reserves. Seeing that if Vale was to fall, Vacuo put its lot in with them as – without their presence – the power of Mistral and Mantle would easily conquer the region due to their subpar development in both technology and strategy."

Made sense, Jaune thought. It was the will to survive and stay true to yourself; do the things _you_ thought were right.

He didn't really know much about Vacuo, never really going there much besides the rare family vacation (the beaches were absolutely fantastic) but they were a free-spirited lot to say the least. Wanting to stay out of the iron grasp of Mistral and Mantle definitely seemed like something that conformed to the nation's general ideology.

The green-haired doctor linked his arms behind his back and spoke stationary from his desk – his thermos and various stacks of books adorning it. Yet another moment of rare stillness from the man. "The King of Vale himself personally arrived onto the battlefield, leading his forces along with advising the steeled survivors of the harsh Vacuan wastelands to complete and utter victory. Mistral and Mantle, both weak after suffering massive losses from previous battles, saw this as their final chance to gain the upper hand but ultimately suffered the very definition of defeat. Survivors of both sides recollect the battle ending in a flash. Once there were soldiers – warriors – and then there were corpses an hour later. People say that the King himself utilised the phenomena to his benefit, using it to end the war once and for all – but, again, that's all speculation. There has been no scientific proof of there being anything of the sort in the first place."

This so called… _'phenomena'_ really bothered him.

It was so crucial to the war itself yet nobody bothered to really look into it? Then again, if it was something supernatural, it would make sense. Countless people, including Jaune, didn't believe in magic and no amount of scientific research would prove that magic exists. Magic isn't scientific and cannot be quantified by such, that was just how it worked if you were to believe it to be real (which Jaune didn't).

Jaune's chin buried itself in his leather-gloved hand, the cold steel of Crocea Mors boring through his clothes while his pen tapped the paper of his pad incessantly.

While he wasn't exactly listening to what was being said, the boy knew that their professor continued talking for a little bit before coming to a conclusion to the Great War's summary. "Once the war ended, the King of Vale found the inspiration to found the huntsman academies we know to this day. Shade for Vacuo, Haven for Mistral, Atlas for Mantle and, last but not least, Beacon for Vale. Built for the sole purpose of fighting against the Grimm and not ourselves, these academies represent the hope for Remnant's future – though, arguably, all of you represent that better."

Almost as if perfectly timed on part of the professor, the bell rung out like a wakeup call for Jaune. Shaking his head and freeing his mind from the metaphysical cage of thought it was trapped in, the voices of the red-caped girl next to him muttered from under the bench. "War… Phenomen-ah-tay… King… blergh."

Concerned for his friend, Jaune made to speak – seeing Weiss shove her notepad into her skirt pocket with a heavy sigh of relief, "Is she… dead?"

"I highly doubt it," Weiss replied, taking a disapproving look at her partner with her arms crossed. "At most it's a brain short-circuit, though I can hardly blame her." Tilting her head to the side, her long pure-white locks did as well. Wow. "Professor Oobleck certainly talks at speeds I did not think were humanly possible."

"Doctor," the blond pointed out on instinct – his inner nuisance side peeking out. After the ice-filled glare the small girl gave him, Jaune lowered his head in shame. "Sorry." Yeah, the dry baseline wittiness was definitely a side-product of Vul doing, Jaune would blame. It wasn't like he was _never_ like this, just more so that his mentor acted as a catalyst of sorts.

A catalyst for _all_ the wrong things.

_Doctor _Oobleck allowed his students to file out while shouting about the assignments due next week concerning the topic he had just covered. Yeah, they had the rest of the week to get lectured but it still sucked that they were being given homework on the second day of arrival.

The clock on his scroll read that it was lunch already. Time flies huh? Behind them, PYRN were already filing out – leaving Pyrrha to remind them as she was the last member to leave, "Are you coming with us to lunch?"

"Don't we have combat class in the afternoon? Seems a little counter-productive to have a meal before an opportunity where you could spill it all out," Jaune reasoned, putting away his own belongings.

Yang shouted from the middle of the crowd she was mingled into, her disembodied voice somehow listening in on her fellow blonde's line of thought, "Speak for yourself! A girl needs her energy!"

"I second that!" A second voice shouted. It wasn't hard to tell who from the distinguishable bubbly tone.

"Help…" Somehow, the defeated tone of Ren was also audible to Jaune. If he knew anything about the duo, it was that the rose-eyed boy was almost, probably, definitely getting dragged along the floor under the trampling feet of his peers. He must have been exhausted after that light-speed lecture.

Yet he still suffered at the hands of the Ginger Menace. A true soldier, through and through.

Saluting solemnly with his eyes squinted in seriousness, he returned to find Weiss prodding Ruby with her pen, only to receive mumblings and moans from the broken girl. "How intriguing…"

Jaune sighed. "Ruby, if you don't wake up I'm going to tell everyone about that diary you hide under your pillow."

Like a rose-filled rocket, Ruby shot up ranting incoherently – ending up with the phrase: "How do you know about that?!" as her wild silver eyes demanded an answer.

Pulling back at the sudden intensity, the boy replied hesitantly, "I mean, I _didn't._ But I do now, so…" Jaune yelped as he was pulled by the collar to be face to face with the smaller girl.

"I swear, if you tell Yang I'm going to make you wish that… that…"

"…That?"

Undeterred, Ruby continued, "That! I'll make you wish that! I swear!"

Sounded like a reasonable offer, Jaune thought. "Alright, you got me; please let go, Ruby…" he cringed, pulling his head away weakly.

As her caped form was pried off of him by a very disinterested-looking Weiss, the boy turned around to see Blake – back to reading her book. His gaze hardened invisibly, wondering if she could tell his intensity the same way he had felt hers. While Aura sensing was a very useful (and actually pretty rare) skill, some people's raw instincts rivalled – if not, surpassed – its capabilities.

Watching her amber orbs scan every word of the page, Jaune wanted to know how much Blake suspected him. Their partnership had been shaky from the very starts and despite his attempts to relieve any tension, they went unfounded ever since the events of last night.

Were his decisions rash? Yes. Were they necessary? No, not really. But he had to start putting the pressure on. If Blake Belladonna was who he thought she was-

"Jaune!"

"Hm?"

Snapping his head back to a certain white haired individual, Weiss crossed her arms expectantly with her foot tapping on the floor. "We're _going. _Do you want lunch or not?" Ruby stumbled out next to her, catching her footing as she was just previously being pulled along her hood.

There was nothing much else to say. It would just be weird to deny the offer, even if it wasn't as much an offer as it was a subliminal order from the small girl. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going…" Already stood, the blond looked back to his partner. "You coming, Blake?"

"Mhm," she hummed tonelessly, closing her book and doing much the same as him.

No matter how suspicious she might have been of him, it pleased Jaune to know that she was as talkative as ever.

/-/

Blake Belladonna was sat in the library.

A quiet place that she had found respite in amidst the high school life she had escaped to. It reminded her of Tukson's back storage room, the place that she had crashed in after… well, after she and Adam had parted ways. Both were full of books, deathly silent and gave you the ability to lose yourself in the world of words and literature. Granted, the main difference was that she could actually move her limbs here without slamming an elbow into a shelf or the corner of something.

There was many a time where that had happened. Aura didn't save you from the little things in life. Like the fabled 'funny bone'. Though, Blake didn't find it very funny herself.

Despite this, however, Blake was struggling to find the flow. Lunch had ended a while ago and they were having a free period until it was time for Miss Goodwitch's combat class. Like she normally did, the girl split away from her team when they noted that they had time to spare but – at least this time – Blake had a real reason to break away from her team.

Before, it was simply a case of not really finding much interest in them. They were nice, sure, but nice didn't exactly equal companionship, let alone friendship. Ruby was optimistic, to a clinically insane extent, she thought. Weiss was a Schnee, though not exactly what Blake was expecting; her mind wasn't really mind up on her.

But if she had to say, the one that her mind had not yet truly come to understand was her partner – Jaune Arc.

He seemed simple enough of the surface. From when they first met, the blond just seemed to be an awkward, goofy kid who was good enough with a sword to get into Beacon. He didn't seem very special or outstanding in any regard.

Yes, they had that strange interaction just before Initiation but perhaps it was just butterflies before the big moment – the event that decided if they got into Beacon or not. That's what Blake thought at first too.

Jaune had shown what he was made of in Professor Port's class. He moved with prowess, the kind that was _practised_ and not the instinctual kind like one might have described herself to have danced along the battlefield. A sword and a gun, even using his sheathe - not to mention all the dust-based explosives attached to him – every single part of the boy seemed to be a deadly weapon.

Jaune Arc reminded her of a weapon.

On the surface, it might have seemed harmless enough. Like a kitchen knife, you could say. However, once someone handles it with the intent to actually _do_ something, it became a horrific tool. That being said, it's not like Blake actually thought Jaune was a mindless killer or anything – far from it. He was at a huntsman school, much like herself, it's just that her partner seemed much more dangerous than people might have given him credit for.

It didn't help said danger was now pointed at her.

Blake turned the page of the book in her hand, ears twitching underneath the bow she kept atop her head. _"Have you ever killed someone before?"_ The girl shoved her chin deeper into her hand, the elbow keeping it propped buckling slightly at the added pressure. The question was sudden. It was out of nowhere. Blake barely had any time to prepare – no – she had _no_ time to prepare. It was like an attack.

Jaune Arc was a weapon and the edge of his blade was pressing itself into Blake's neck.

Another flick of the paper while the hushed voices of other students sat in the library grew slightly louder.

Had he found out? How? Blake had kept her true nature a secret to the utmost degree; she wore a bow on her head! Nobody would have suspected – nobody _should_ have suspected. Was Jaune working with Adam? Was he trying to somehow get her back? Blake ran for a reason – a damn good reason – and there was no way she was returning. She did everything she could to try pull the man that she trusted her life with out of the spiral of blood he was letting himself fall down, but to no avail. There was nothing left for her to do, and Blake couldn't help someone that didn't think they needed help.

No, Jaune didn't look like a faunus – neither did he seem to have any areas that could have contained features of one. Nothing like her completely natural bow that decorated his body to conceal something that could have incriminated him. He could have been a duck faunus but, truthfully, they were normally quite timid in nature and hated admitting that they _were_ in fact a faunus out of fear for the question: 'oh, what kind?'.

Yeah, you'd be hard-pressed to find out if someone was a duck faunus, alright.

Then that meant if her blond partner truly was on her metaphorical tail, he must have been an enemy of the White Fang.

The amber-eyed girl was a special case, she would admit. Having to ask a close friend to forge details for an application due to the 'Past Experience' section having 'terrorism' listed would make you at _least_ qualify for that tag. Then again, Blake doubted she was the only one with a complicated past.

Perhaps Jaune was a spy, seeking her out to get information concerning the organisation she had left behind. Considering the fact that the distant look in his eyes screamed something precarious about him, Blake would have wagered he wasn't the type to ask questions first.

Blake turned another page, only to turn back and realise she hadn't read a single word on the last one or the one before that.

A deep breath of air in, a deep breath of air out. Golden irises revealed themselves once more as her eyelids lifted – proceeding the motion. Blake turned her head, noticing the clock. Slowly, it returned back to the faded page of her book and the girl appeared content at just staring it for a while, before eventually lifting one side over to the other and closing it with a thump.

The chair behind her let out a quiet scrape as wood scratched wood. Not a second later, it was pushed back in and Blake made her way out of the library. It was time for combat class, she knew.

She didn't even get to read a single page.

/-/

"It's like a colosseum…" Jaune sat in a mix of awe and despair of the ringed arena. Raised seats, hard-light barricades and what looked to be a pit where they threw in combatants for the viewing pleasure of the rest. There was only a flat pit that acted as a stage for the dance of death called combat.

Basically, it was everything that Jaune _didn't_ like about a place to fight. Nothing to take advantage of, that is assuming you don't rig the space before a fight.

Jaune wasn't the type to do that. Not normally. And anyway, doing so would require the foresight to know that you were going to fight someone that class – and there was no guarantee that Miss Goodwitch would somehow let everyone from their year fight today, unless she planned on a free-for-all.

"I hope she doesn't throw a free-for-all…" he muttered quietly.

Weiss, dressed in her snow-white combat attire, apparently heard his mumblings and noted on them despite nobody really asking her. "Since when did huntsmen get into free-for-alls?"

Her partner, who was sat between herself and Jaune, tilted her head and rolled her silver orbs back slightly in thought. "Does fighting a bunch of suited thugs and a well-dressed thief all by yourself count as a free-for-all? But, like, that same well-dressed thief doesn't seem to care about the suited thugs and blows them all up with the shots aimed at you?"

"Yes," Jaune answered, ignoring the oddly specific example.

"No, it doesn't," Weiss confirmed, doing the same.

The two looked at each other, bending forward past Ruby to meet each other's confused gazes before leaning back into their seats. Their polar opposite stances on the matter were evident and simultaneous.

"Yes, it _does_," Jaune reiterated with more force behind his words.

"No!" Weiss restated, with even _more_ force behind her words.

Sat next to Jaune was his partner, idly holding her book open. While the girl was seemingly struggling to turn a page for the last few minutes, it didn't stop her from coming up with a dry, witty quip to describe the situation. "Why don't you two just get a room?"

Both dark and light blue eyes peered in Blake's direction – Weiss leaning past Ruby once more, who was similarly setting her silver sights on her bow-wearing friend. Jaune turned back to Weiss to let their eyes cross again before they both snapped their hands back to the blond's partner.

"No," they both seemed to agree despite their earlier differences.

Ruby whispered under her breath, seemingly hesitant to point out the fact that: "We already kind of all share a room together anyway, so…"

The clicking and clacking of heels shut the entire class up in an instant as their professor of this particular period made her way to the center of the ring. "Welcome, students, to your first combat class at Beacon Academy. As a professor here at this school, I would like you to refer to me as 'Miss Goodwitch' and, from henceforth, each and every session will be delivered by me." Miss Goodwitch adjusted her glasses with a single push upward before delivering the next line in a somewhat ominous fashion. "It would do you well to remember that."

"Pretty direct," noted Jaune quietly. After the eccentric introduction of Professor Port and the general lack of one with Doctor Oobleck – Miss Goodwitch's welcoming speech was to the point and concise. From what he could tell, that was probably a constant in her behaviour.

"Quite imposing too," Weiss decidedly added. Yeah, there was that. The woman had shown him her stripes when he was dragged along with Professor Port to explain the whole 'Grimm gladiator match inside of a room filled with children' thing.

Miss Goodwitch's voice spiked from the center of the room, making the two members of Team RASB jump in their seats like children whose hands were caught in the cookie jar. "You there! Miss Schnee, Mister Arc – do you think it appropriate to have your own little conversation while I, myself, am talking?"

Instantly, Weiss shot up from her position and stood ramrod straight – a soldier in the face of their commanding officer. "No, Miss Goodwitch! I apologise sincerely and promise that it won't happen again!"

The very scene made a bead of sweat roll down Jaune's forehead in surprise and disbelief. Weiss' face was forced into one of complete sincerity and determination, though he could tell that she was terrified. That wasn't Aura sense, by the way, it was just the fact that he was about to piss himself at getting called out like that so Weiss must have been as scared as he was. Right?

However, the girl's efforts were enough to spare her from the wrath of the blonde crop-wielding witch below them. "Hm." Her hawk's gaze pierced his own flesh next – Miss Goodwitch's neck snapping in Jaune's direction. "And you, Mister Arc?"

"I wha-?" _Oh, come on. _His inner palace would have facepalmed if it could.

Of all times for Jaune to be caught off guard, this would be one of the worst. Maybe not physically, but most certainly mentally. His eyes came to Weiss, who was still stood at attention with her stare forward – aware at his attempt for contact but denying it with all her will. Next was Ruby; her silver orbs refused to speak, dark locks swaying as her head darted to a direction that didn't include Jaune. Her whistling came out as dead puffs of air that played the melody of his doom. Surely Blake-

Blake wasn't next to him. Where she was, only the gods knew – but Jaune himself knew that she wasn't going to be of any help even if she was here.

Normally, Jaune was one who prided himself in being able to keep a cool head, though – for some reason – he couldn't do so here. Not in the face of the blonde witch's malice and certainly not in front of an entire class of teenagers who judge you for every single one of your actions.

There was only one phrase that crossed Jaune's mind as his inevitable fate dawned closer and closer. "Ah, shit-baskets…"

He blamed Vul for his colourful use of language.

/-/

Next thing Jaune knew, he was stood in the middle of an arena, awaiting his opponent. All in all, not as bad a punishment as he would have thought.

Thank the gods that Miss Goodwitch hadn't heard his curse, despite her inhuman sense of hearing prior – cussing in front of a woman like her seemed like a fate second only to cussing in front of your own mother. Come to think of it, Miss Goodwitch sort of reminded Jaune of his mother – the sterner side of her – in both figure and mannerisms.

Quite violently, he shook that thought of his head. That… no. No.

No.

Two feet planted at one side of the plain and flat duelling pit, the slots behind their professor spun and spun for the person that he would have to fight. Generally, Jaune felt quite confident. Was it experience? Was it arrogance? A mixture, maybe. Jaune knew he had come a long way in a year – but a year was all it was. This was a huntsman academy. People trained near a decade to study here.

He had a tenth of that time.

So, as the roulette came to an end, a familiar – but very unfriendly – face came to greet him. Brown hair, an ugly and cocky smirk and a set of eyes that screamed over-confidence, it was none other than-

"Mister Winchester," the professor tapped something onto her tablet scroll before looking into the audience. "Mister Winchester from Team CRDL, please make your way into the arena."

There was no roaring applause, no deathly silence either. Just barely audible murmurs from the crowd, possibly placing bets or gossiping about first impressions, of which Miss Goodwitch seemed to allow. This wasn't some sort of blood sport, not to these students – no. To them, it was just a class. Just an everyday event to learn about combat. To learn about fighting another human being.

Cardin made his way down the central set of stairs before walking to his side of the space. Like his flattering portrait, his face seemingly was contorted to a commingled state of hubris and contempt. If Jaune had to guess, it would be from their little scuffle earlier in the day. Speaking of…

Jaune cocked out a hip, eyebrow quirking as he gestured, "That arm seems to be doing a whole lot better. You sure you can beat me after getting it snapped in two?" Hey, words were a weapon within themselves, that was article twenty of 'Vul's Guide to the Universe'. Again, the wit just seemed to come out whenever it needed to – mostly to rile an opponent up, for better or for worse.

For worse, more often than not. It was Vul's fault.

The cockiness in the slightly larger boy's face faded, replaced with a dirty pull of his mouth, "No thanks to you, wuss; had to get your dirty work done by a _girl._ And like I said," Cardin's eyebrows furrowed, the anger in his voice extremely evident. "I'm _leagues_ ahead of you."

His own cerulean eyes found themselves rolling at Cardin's former comment. "Real progressive, buddy." Coco was the walking definition of a strong woman in Jaune's eyes. And anyway, in this day and age, there seemed to be a way larger ratio of huntresses compared to huntsman – at least in this school.

"Enough with the pre-fight banter, gentlemen," Miss Goodwitch reprimanded, not all too seriously.

As he shrugged with his eyes closed, it seemed to Jaune that even she understood the importance of the mental game involved within combat. His opponent ceased his own verbal assault, though with much less grace – scoffing to the side.

"The rules are simple. You will fight until the following: one party yields, one party's Aura hits the red, one party is unable to continue. Your scrolls and the monitor behind me will keep track of your Aura levels." Beeping from his belt indicated that his scroll had just connected to the system. Both his own and Cardin's Aura levels were displayed in the healthy green. Continuing, Miss Goodwitch looked to Jaune, her bright green eyes like laser pointers. "That being said, Mister Arc, are you ready?"

His carefreeness evaporated, standing sideways on and bending at the knees but making no move to draw a weapon. Cardin undoubtedly knew he had a gun and a sword – but who said that was all Jaune had at his disposal? "Yes, Miss Goodwitch."

Next, the professor turned to his opponent, "And you, Mister Winchester, are you ready?"

Cardin crouched low, his stance practiced but seemingly wild in nature. Growling, he replied, "Always."

Miss Goodwitch stepped to the side of the arena, still in the center but certainly out of the way. Even if she was further away, her commanding voice was crystal-clear. Raising her riding-crop, she yelled with conviction, "Then let the match between Mister Arc and Mister Winchester…" Her weapon came down in a flash of midnight.

"Begin!"

/-/

Professor Ozpin stood by his lonesome. Fingers around his familiar mug, the man stood out unto the grounds of his very own academy with the silhouette of Vale proper in the distance. Indeed, it was a position that the headmaster of Beacon found himself of many a times in the day. Sometimes, when he was thinking. Other times, when he was lost. Though - perhaps most of the time – it was when he was waiting.

The chime of his office elevator echoed in the glass and cog-filled room. "Here they are," Ozpin hummed to himself idly before turning around to meet the new faces that were about to appear behind the steel doors.

With a smooth sound, the elevator exists parted and revealed a pair of students. One was smiling and the other… well, she was trying her best to. "Heya, Professor Ozpin!"

"Coco," the one trying her best reprimanded in a way that was not at all that reprimanding. Velvet Scarlatina grabbed her team leader's shoulder lightly in a vain attempt at emphasising her following point. "You shouldn't be so informal to the headmaster; it's disrespectful!"

In response, the beret-donning and shades-wearing young woman in front of her rolled her eyes along with her head as she walked forward, bringing her close friend and team member out of the elevator itself and into his office.

"Loosen up, Vel. I'm not _'disrespecting' _him or anything." For a second, Coco seemed to hesitate as her smile dropped and felt the urge to clarify: "I'm not disrespecting you – am I, sir?"

"Let your worries ease, Miss Adel," Ozpin clarified with a soft tone. "You are doing me a favour; I believe it would be rude for me to say that you are." As the leader of Team CVFY gave her team member a look of 'I told you so' under her shades, the headmaster urged on the matter of their presence. "Speaking of which, I assume you're here to report something?"

The two young ladies stopped just in front of his desk and Coco's smirk dissipated, leaving behind a less casual but not at all professional expression as she informed, "Yeah. Velvet here's made contact with that new blood in the first year."

"I see," The older man hummed until the girl continued with her statement,

"We had her get into a little altercation with that Winchester brat, as much as I hated the idea," Coco spat, turning her head and scowling to the side where Velvet couldn't see her face.

In an attempt to soothe her rising rage, the faunus smiled genuinely and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think I couldn't handle it, Coco, it's alright."

"What do you mean 'it's alright'?!" Coco yelled suddenly, brushing off Velvet's hand and stepping away so that she faced the other girl head-on. "That's the _problem!_ I might have broken his arm, but gods know it's the least he deserves!"

While getting tenser, Velvet's smile refused to leave her face but a deep and smooth voice cut into the interaction with masterful ease. It was preceded by a stern clap of glass on glass; a white mug was placed firmly onto the desk in front of the two girls.

"I appreciate your commitment, Miss Scarlatina, but I am well aware of the Winchesters' stance on faunuskind and urge you to not put yourself under such scrutiny again in the future." Cardin's father was already verbally abusive when he attended Beacon and it seemed that his son lacks the maturity and restraint that Sebastian Winchester had when he attended Beacon himself. While he dreaded to find out what had been happening under his nose in his very own school, Ozpin moved to the confrontational girl to the right of Velvet.

"And you, Miss Adel, I beg of you not to take justice into your own hands. While you may _think _that breaking another student's arm – your _junior's_ arm – is the right course of action, I can solemnly say that there was more than one way that could have ended badly for you. You have my word that Mister Winchester will be dealt with appropriately."

And by 'appropriately', Professor Ozpin meant 'by Miss Goodwitch'. The gods knew that she would have a field day.

"…Yes, sir." The two girls seemed to say in agreement, turning to face the headmaster with their arms by their sides.

"Though, that Jaune kid you wanted us to get closer to wasn't the knight in shining armour that came to Velvet's aid," Coco added as an afterthought, cocking her hip to the side and placing a hand on it. "I mean, yeah, he came in the end – but it was that one small girl on his team who was first…"

"Ruby." Velvet completed.

"Yeah, her." Thanking her teammate with a solitary nod as she confirmed, Coco turned back to Professor Ozpin who walked over to the side of his desk chair and came to sit down. Putting his elbows on the table, the man interlinked his fingers in a thoughtful manner as the girl continued. "Tiny kid. Wears a cape and always like she's always on a sugar high."

Ozpin hummed. The hum turned into a satisfied chuckle. "Yes, well, that certainly sounds like Miss Rose. But you are sure that Mister Arc came himself to the scene once she herself had arrived?" At the two girls nodding, his hazel gaze drew itself downwards from the two girls and two his own hands.

Then, there was silence. Silence, that is, until one of the two members of Team CFVY snapped it in two – just like a certain boy's arm from earlier on the day.

"…Sir?"

"Yes, Miss Adel?"

Coco seemed to hesitate, the words getting stuck in her throat, but eventually spat out meekly. "Why do you want Velvet to act like a White Fang spy in front of this kid?"

Ozpin himself kept silent for a second before an amused smirk blossomed onto his face. "Miss Adel, does one normally argue with extra credit?"

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**I won't lie; I have no idea how extra credit bloody works. **

**Anyway, we're setting things up. Turns out Qrow's text wasn't about Blake after all. Ozpin did say he knew what he was doing. But let's be real, does he really? Spoiler alert, the answer isn't an easy one. **

**Coco and Velvet! I actually love these two to bits. And I love writing them. They're just so damn adorable. **

**Blake is also highly aware of Jaune's intentions during the Truth or Dare game, it seems. But she isn't too sure of what they _exactly_ are. You know how she is under pressure, let's just hope she does pull a legger. **

**There was also an absolute ton of very explicate world-building both canon to RWBY as a whole and canon to this specific fanfic. It's sort of important, trust me. Sorry if it was a bore to read. It was Oobleck's class… I sort of thought it a good chance to dump a bunch of words onto you. My bad.**

**Next chapter you have the Cardin and Jaune fight to look forward to. The first time he's fought a person since his training, or at least the first time I've written it, I think. How much has he learnt from Qrow and how much will he use his own wits, smarts and tactics? Only time can tell.**

**As always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	14. Chapter 14: Birds of a(nother) Feather 2

**Author's Notes:**

**Hey. You come here often? **

**Early update this time, mostly because the ending of the last chapter was a cliff-hanger and I don't want to keep all of you suspended without any sort of respite. It's Cardin vs Jaune this chapter and it is solely that. 10k~ words dedicated to this fight. However, it might devolve further than a simple school-regulated duel. **

**There were also some understandable confusions about last chapter's final segment on CVFY plot relevance and Ozpin's little ploy. All I can say, is that Jaune will have his reasons and they will be explained so withhold your skeptical eyebrows. **

**On a completely unrelated note, you realise that sometimes I differentiate my use of 'God' and 'gods'? It sounds more appropriate that I make characters like Qrow and Yang yell 'Oh my God!' or 'God damn it…' instead of 'Oh, gods…' like more regal characters (looking at you Weiss). It's just kind of weird. Maybe I can chalk it up to them being more well-read and understanding more about history and religions.**

**Though that doesn't really make sense, seeing as though Qrow knows about the gods of Light and Dark anyway – yet chooses to refer to a single higher being…**

**Just thought I'd put that out there. Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"Begin!"

"Holy crap – Professor Ozpin just did a triple backflip off of the balcony!" Jaune yelled a millisecond after Miss Goodwitch had sanctioned their battle to start. The boy was in anything but a fighting stance, finger pointed out into the distance behind Cardin and face pulled back in pure disbelief.

They had him going for a second, he'd admit, but eventually every single one of the heads in the arena room twisted to lay eyes on the sight that he had described with such adamant certainty. And Jaune meant _everyone. _Well, not the combat professor; she instead expelled a quiet sigh from her mouth and held the bridge of her nose tightly. It was pretty obvious that she couldn't believe that anyone present had fallen for the ploy

Honestly? Jaune shared the sentiment. But people wanted to believe it was true, so they looked. That was just how people worked sometimes, no matter how stupid it was.

The ever benevolent-looking headmaster of Beacon Academy letting lose with a sweet triple backflip? If it was true, anyone would have kicked themselves if they had missed it. And while everyone was taking a good look at absolutely _nothing,_ Jaune unclipped something from his torso belt before fiddling with its contents. At the same time, the magnetic holster on his arm bracer loosened Crocea Mors' shield with a click.

Cardin turned back to his opponent with a look of disgust and confusion. "There isn't even a balcony here; we're inside-!" Before he could finish his line of thought, a solid lumbar of steel in the form of Crocea Mors' sheathe came flying at his face and the tip of the case smashed into him square in the nose. A flare of dark grey shot up above his skin as Cardin grabbed his face, recoiling slightly and stumbling back as he struggled to open his eyes through the tears. "What the f-!?"

_Rule number three of Vul's Guide to the Universe: 'Never take your eyes off of the enemy'._ Evidently, Cardin hadn't done his assigned readings before the fight. There was a flash of silver and soon there were sparks. A swift overhead strike met a barely scraped together block and the two boys met in a deadlock as both of Jaune's hands were firmly placed onto the hilt of his lineage-led weapon as he tried to push for an advantage.

"Dirty play, Arc…" Cardin managed through grit teeth. Hell, he was somehow pushing back even though he was under the entirety of Jaune's bodyweight. Cerulean orbs widened before his own teeth ground against each other, veins popping in his neck and muscles all across his arms and legs straining to push back against the other boy's surprising amount of strength.

"There _are_ no dirty plays…" Was Jaune's response, though each word spoken gave up a slight bit of ground. Even if he was losing the deadlock, the blond pushed his neck forward where his arms could not and spat from just behind the edge of his blade. "Only the ones that get you better _results._"

With a roar, Cardin managed to break the deadlock as he grabbed the other end of his mace and used both of his arms to push Crocea Mors to the side, forcing Jaune himself to stumble to the side before regaining his footing and pivoting to face his brown-haired opponent once more. The opponent in question had a shit-eating grin on his face as he ran a thumb under his nose and hefted his weapon onto the metal pauldron on his shoulder and started to circle the boy he had reversed the pressure from.

Soon enough, they were circling each other the same way two predators might. Rolling his wrist, Jaune made Crocea Mors whirl around in his arm before coming to a one armed stance – left palm behind his sword arm open and ready to catch any overextended appendage to take better advantage of a mistake.

Cardin… Cardin was _strong._ And Jaune thought that was an understatement. Jaune thought _he_ was strong. No, Cardin had raw strength greater than even him. Sure, he could use his Semblance but that would only be so that he could compete with the other's naturally gifted horsepower. It made him wonder how he got his arm snapped by Coco. Her fanged smirk appeared in the blond's mind before he shook it out of his head. _Don't get distracted, Jaune. You've got a job to do._

And that job was to teach Cardin a lesson.

Growling through his throat and closed lips, Jaune burst forward, arm drawn over his left shoulder and let loose backhanded strike that was more akin to a blur of silver, steel and yellow. It was met once again as both Aura and metal sparked at the same time. Another swing was met with the same results. The chime of sliver on black was echoed by the shuffle of Jaune's various grenades and clips that decorated his assortment of belts and pouches. Another. Another. How was Cardin twisting that two-handed weapon like it was a stick? Be it any other person and Jaune would have sworn their wrists would have pulled.

His frustration was evident as the blonde grasped both palms on his sword on the rebound of a strike and came back on a powerful dual-handed horizontal strike from his right to left. His furrowed brow and iron expression faltered a second later. He had made a mistake.

It was too telegraphed. The action was too obvious. And as much as Jaune hated to admit it, Cardin earned his place here at Beacon just as much as he did. He may not have endured the same hellish route to get to it but the final test was the same for the both of them. Maybe Jaune was a little arrogant in his own ability. He had come from basically nothing, after all. Though, it looked like this time that arrogance was his own undoing as Cardin basically batted aside his attack – using Jaune's built momentum all against him in a perfectly timed parry.

Jaune would have let out a gasp in surprise, but to do so would ruin his breathing pattern. Instead, he settled for visibly gritting his teeth and bracing himself for what Cardin was about to do to finish the phrase in this song of steel.

As Jaune stepped back unwillingly – two arms flailing uselessly in the aftermath of the counter – Cardin took a step forward to proceed his own attack. Luckily, it was as telegraphed as his own strike that was so effortlessly parried since it seemed that the smug-looking boy in front of him was already going for the killing blow right off the bat. And in a second, it was going to be his head off of _his_ bat if Jaune didn't get away from the devastating blow that was aiming to push his skull down into his own spine.

There was barely any space between his dirty gold locks and the heavy end of Cardin's mace as the weapon grazed past his skin and scraped the edge of his own golden-white Aura before smashing the floor with such an impact that it kicked up whatever material it was made of and formed a mini-crater right next to Jaune's boots. Twisting himself sideways to avoid the strike, Jaune stood-sideways on and felt the sheer force of Cardin's strike in the form of wind over behind his back.

However – as he turned his head to look at the crater - Jaune failed to notice that the attack had been completed with only _one _of Cardin's hands. And it seemed that the other was gunning for his cheek.

"Gah!"

He couldn't help the sound that game out of his mouth as Cardin's other fist collided with his cheek and sent him skidding along the floor. It was almost unnatural how far he was sent tumbling, though half of it was because Jaune's neck followed the flow of the punch to lessen the total impact to his head. But in the tumble, Jaune reached to his leg belt and the mechanical shifting was heard only by him.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Cardin tore his arm back up to shield himself from the ranged assault on both his body and eardrums, but the damage was done. His Aura flared with every ping of a bullet and there were many more after that that graced the dark grey swathe on his person.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Another three shots echoed in the arena pit that acted as the stage for their violent tango. There was a string of curses that erupted from the standing boy's mouth as he peeked through the window of his forearm to see Jaune's roll come to a stop as the boy came to a crouched standstill and let off another chorus of gunfire. Each and every bullet met the target, not like Cardin was doing much to make it otherwise; he seemed content with hunkering down and turtling out the fire.

Again. Again. Jaune pulled the trigger again. He had no qualms letting fly all the ammunition within the magazine until…

_Click._

He was out.

_Click. Click._

But Jaune still pulled the trigger a few more times just to make sure.

There were loud thumps of heavy metal boots meeting the hard material that made the arena floor. It seemed as though Cardin had realised he was out and was finally making his own move. And he was making it quick. Well, as quick as a fully metal-suited teenager could with a two-handed mace in tow.

Cursing under his breath, Jaune shifted Crocea Mors' blade from his right to his left and switched it with his black and yellow painted handgun before reaching into a pouch on his belt and tossing up a magazine. A click of the button and the old one was dropped like litter and the new clip was basically forced into the gun as the blond shoved the butt of the gun into the airborne clip with practised ease. The cold metal met the ivory of his teeth and Jaune bit down, causing the slide to be pulled back. With his weapon reloaded, Jaune extended his arm once more - bracing it for the recoil to come.

When you had a sword in one hand and a gun in the other, reloading a gun was hard – impossible, Jaune said at one point. Not like Vul cared, because he so usefully told Jaune to 'figure it out' since dropping either weapon for any length of time was dangerous and impractical.

One might have argued that _this_ method was impractical either way. Well, to that, Jaune would have guessed that they never had to pull back a gun with their teeth while parrying blows. Came in useful. It only took a month or two of daily practise until he could do it whenever he wanted around half the time.

Hard, yes. Impractical, hell no.

Sea-blue eyes aimed down the sights and the echoing of dust-based gunfire resumed. One round became two. Two became four. Yet Cardin powered through, each bullet being deflected and flaring the other boy's Aura to defend against its effects. He was putting on a touch act but Jaune was almost completely certain that he was feeling the pain. Aura could do only so much.

As if to prove his hypothesis, Cardin yelled as he finally came within smashing range of the blonde, "Quit firing that thing, damn it!" The complaint was proceeded by a wide horizontal sweep aimed at Jaune's crouched position. And like some sort of bunny, Jaune managed a one-armed handspring from that very same position to jump back.

Evidently, Cardin couldn't believe it as he stared at the boy's practised form like it was in slow-motion as he mouthed something that rhymed with 'what the pluck' to himself. But as his eyes were tracking Jaune's form, their dark pupils eventually met the spiralling black eye of a gun barrel that suddenly flashed with light.

Another two shots followed as Jaune recovered from his backflip and let the dust in the magazine speak for him once more.

Though, it seemed that his opponent had learnt from his past mistakes. As opposed to just being a stationary target, Cardin decided that perhaps moving to root out of source of the problem would actually make the pain stop faster. He stormed forward, waving that mace of his back and forth (and, to his credit, caught the odd bullet or two the process) as he was eventually in the range of Jaune once more.

He swung.

And he missed. He was also shot. Again. In response, the armoured boy swung – raging in the direction of Jaune once more. A swing and a miss. And another dust round to his back, to which he recoiled in pain due to not expectantly flowing Aura there. People very rarely did unless they were constantly on guard, and it was something that Jaune was taking advantage of.

Cardin was beginning to lose patience – his canines showing as he snarled, "Would you just stop moving already? Stop jumping around like some sort of cricket!" In response, he received another shot to the shoulder and he audibly groaned in response; the same shoulder bucked back at the bullet.

Honestly? Jaune preferred something like a hare or a rabbit. Those just sounded cooler. But he supposed cricket wasn't far off.

From the very first days of Vul's training, the word 'dodge' was branded by molten iron into his nervous system. Don't get hit: no problems. Couple that with the fact that his Aura reserve was so vast, he could go for ages as long as his stamina didn't give out first (which was more often than not the case in his early losses against Vul).

As Jaune's trigger finger spasmed for the umpteenth time, and ducked under and around Cardin's wild swing for that amount - give or take another couple - he refused to admit the fact he was jumping over and around his opponent so much was due to the fact that he sort of dropped his sword when he did the back-handspring. Yeah, turns out you can't do that while holding a sword, who would have guessed?

Luckily, however, the raging bull in a full set of armour that was taking every single one of his magazine's dust-filled bullets didn't seem to catch on. If he did, all he would really need to do was kick the weapon to a place where he couldn't get to or actively prevent Jaune from getting his hands on it. That plan of action would leave him with a gun and limited amounts ammo. It also wasn't as if he was proficient at gun-whipping, or anything; who the hell was proficient in gun-whipping?

Jaune himself also doubted he had enough ammo to even whittle the boy down to the red in the first place. If Cardin did that, it would probably have to come down to a fists on mace and the blond wasn't exactly _great_ at close-quarters-combat either. He was good, yeah – as good as you could get in a couple of months. But after one thing came another and Vul never let him spend too much time on a single skill. The woes of a timeframe, he supposed.

But the thoughts inadvertently brought him closer to the object in question. Inching closer and closer, the blond led around the brown-haired menace chasing him as he came into distance of Crocea Mors' blade.

And Cardin had no idea. "Will. You. Stop. Moving!" His mace was brought down as quickly as it was brought up, shaking the ground but missing Jaune by a mile as he ducked under Cardin's wide stance and slid through his legs and gave the goods a solid whack with his pistol as his combat trousers skidded surprisingly smoothly on the white surface underneath him. Understandably, his opponent dropped to a knee and clutched his crotch with his free hand as he cursed enough to make Vul raise an eyebrow.

Well, not really, Jaune knew. But the point was made.

"Why the _fuck_ would you do that, Arc?!" Hey, his loss. In more ways than one. Miss Goodwitch was in earshot, and by the look on her face – she was anything _but_ entertained as she tapped angrily onto her tablet scroll. "Where the hell is your _honour- _ngh!" He was cut off by a weight of steel and leather pushing itself against the mace as he tore it up in the nick of time.

For some reason, Jaune felt his skin crawl.

"I don't want to hear that from _you…_" The words coming out of this ignorant, overconfident _child_ from across the two clashing weapons made Jaune's blood boil hotter than any fire that the Grimm have or ever will cause. The heat was felt by both parties as he spat venom.

In the first place, Jaune was the type to say that honour was dead – but you could chalk that up to biased adult influence. But the word 'honour' coming from a person like _Cardin_ was like a punch to his stomach, if only that punch was fuel to his fire of wanting carve the other a new one for how shallow he sounded. He knew from the beginning that he had to teach Cardin a lesson, but how high of a pedestal he seemed to place himself on pissed Jaune off to a degree that was _indescribable._

He didn't know _anything_ about honour. He could see it: Velvet pleading as her ears were being tugged on like some sort of play-toy, the memory not at all distant.

He knew nothing about faunus. He knew nothing about man. Cardin knew _nothing._

And Jaune was about to tell him everything he could.

/-/

Cardin's pupils trembled at the person in front of him.

The proud boy stared into the deep, dark sea of blue and saw red emerge from the raging waves. An inferno burning in the infinitely engulfing ocean. It was as if the Jaune from not ten minutes ago was replaced with something else. Something dangerous. Something that could honestly hurt him. It was like there was an honest-to-the-gods weapon standing on the other end of their deadlocked blades.

He didn't look like the same kid who bumped into Sky on his way to class. He didn't look like the blond kid that went out of his depth to save some dumb bunny during lunch period. Hell, he didn't look like the Arc that was standing ready to fight a few minutes ago.

No, this guy looked ready to kill someone. Cardin just hoped it wasn't him.

But he wouldn't let the blond think that he had him on the ropes. He was built better than that. Sculpted out of better stone. He was a Winchester. And this Jaune kid was going to be damned if he thought he was going to get the better of him that easy.

With a shout, he barely managed to push Jaune off with the help of building adrenaline due to his fight of flight instinct kicking up for whatever reason. And evidence would suggest that he picked the former of the two as he roared, coming up from a knee and bringing his two-handed mace behind him – its weight as deadly as it was plentiful in his hands.

Cardin pushed forward.

/-/

Ruby's silver eyes went from blond to brown rapidly as she slowly assessed: "Jaune is…"

"Winning. By a landslide." Red-tinted locks whipped to the side, only to lay metallic orbs on a lilac-eyed grinning older sister with hair that could have left someone speechless. Either by its beauty or by smothering them until they couldn't breathe anymore. She sat on the other side of Blake, leaning forward and looking across at her with a toothy smile. "`Sup, sis!"

"Yang?" Ruby's voice was coated in equal amounts of happy surprise and sad surprise. Yeah, her sister was pretty cool, but sometimes she was just too much. It made her wonder what she would even do without her. In any case, the caped girl quirked an eyebrow as she asked, "When'd you even get here?"

"_We,_" the blonde girl gestured a hand with raised eyebrows to Pyrrha, who waved happily at her for a second before turning her attention back to the arena, and the rest of her team before coming back to her little sister. "Have been here the entire time." Yang turned her light violet eyes back to Jaune's fight as she added half-heartedly to her answer, "You guys were just too busy having your cute little team moment to notice."

"Urk…" The smaller girl recoiled visibly – arms coming up in front of her as she turned her body away.

Yeah. It was pretty cute, thinking back on it. But Yang having front row seats was also kind of embarrassing because of how assertive and vocal she was at times. Ruby slumped back in her chair and draped her arms over the provided armrests, much to her partner's dismay, and went back to watching Jaune basically _oppress_ that huge Cardin jerk.

Oppress? Ruby supposed here wasn't really another word for it, judging from the sight before her.

Every strike was barely deflected and almost never parried. When Jaune _was_ parried, he moved too quick for Cardin to take advantage. But out of the dozens of interactions, only one or two ended up like that. Every _other_ strike made it past Cardin's defence and grazed his body, flaring his Aura as the silver of Crocea Mors glanced on his armour. And when Cardin brought their weapons to a deadlock, Jaune reached over their blades with his other hand and opened fire with his handgun at point blank range, forcing the slightly larger boy to stagger back and repeat the vicious cycle. It was an endless torment for Cardin. Rinse and repeat for Jaune.

Earlier, Jaune couldn't land a hit – save for his gun – and it seemed as though Cardin was in control, even if he was getting ran circles around. But now? The blond boy was viciously ravaging his opponent like a wolf to a rabbit. If Ruby squinted, she would have guessed that half the time her teammate was purposely aiming for his weapon as he slammed his blade onto the mace like he was trying to break it.

But even as Jaune dominated the battle, Ruby couldn't help but wonder something. "Why hasn't Jaune just finished this yet?" She leant forward and put a hand to her chin, continuing, "He obviously has this under the belt; he should just put that jerk-face Cardin into the ground already."

From next to her, the ever-cold (but slowly warming) Weiss added on in typical Weiss-y fashion with her arms folded. "But he isn't."

"Or he can't," Blake was quick to counter. Her eyes were almost like slits as she stared down into the arena pit and Ruby couldn't help but let her own silver eyes linger on her teammate until a certain redhead's words reached out to her.

"Or, perhaps, he doesn't want to."

_Everyone_ from both Team RASB and Team PYRN looked over to the culprit who had opened her mouth because none of them would have guessed she would have anything to say – ever – about, well, anything. That was sort of the type of person they saw her as, after all.

Pyrrha's hands were in her lap, looking between the six pairs of eyes on her as she frantically began to wave them off with wide and desperate gestures. "Well, no, I mean…" Freezing up like a statue for a second, Pyrrha eventually found her composure and furrowed her eyebrows – watching Jaune's bout with almost professional intensity.

"To Blake's point," the girl started, "Jaune's swordplay is… lacklustre. At least when compared to his footwork."

At her words, Blake seemed to nod in hesitant thought as she sat back and folded her arms in a defensive manner. "Yes…" she hummed. "He knows very well how to use it just, when compared to how he moves, he could – no, _should_ – be doing much more."

Ruby guessed that Blake would know. She saw how she moved on top that massive Nevermore during Initiation, after all. And the way she used her weapon while doing all those cool flips and stuff? It was like she was dancing with her weapon.

Kind of like how Ruby envision herself dancing with Crescent Rose when she was us under the influence of her Semblance at times. A quick look to Jaune proved Pyrrha and Blake's theory – however. He was slow. While his body was flowing, his attacks were barely keeping up – if that at all. As much as she hated herself for saying, he was kind of sloppy. He was…

Her eyes thinned as she squinted, as if that would help her confirm. "…using his left hand. Wait, is Jaune using his left hand? I'm like sixty percent sure he's right handed."

Weiss' incredulous look was priceless. "What kind of odds are those?"

Though, despite the girl's transgressions, Pyrrha similarly narrowed the gaze of her emerald eyes and whispered under her breath. "Yes… I see." Pulling herself to the backrest of her seat, she dragged her hands to her laps and let out a quiet sigh. "Jaune is right-handed. I've never seen him use his left hand for eating, writing or brushing his teeth."

"Brushing his…" From the other side of Ren, who was sat next to Pyrrha, Nora could be heard mumbling to herself.

Coughing loudly with an undertone of urgency, Pyrrha let her words take attention off of the slight red tint to her face. "I think Ruby's discovery does help to explain why his form lacks, though…" With a small tilt, Pyrrha's face scrunched up as she watched Jaune continue the unrelenting assault onto Cardin. He landed another hit, though it wasn't clean; the direction of the strike and the degree of the sword weren't aligned. The glancing blow was enough to stagger Cardin however as he buckled under the force slightly before resuming a defensive position.

"…I don't think that it was all too great to begin with." Pyrrha finally completed before stutter to add, "A-at least, that's my opinion."

"I mean," Yang's chin was buried into her palm as she leant forward and onto her knees. "I get that I basically know _nothing_ about swords n' stuff, but you saw how he was left defenceless earlier when Cardin wacked Jaune's sword away when he went for a big swing. It got him socked in the face."

"Well…" The blonde's partner looked more apprehensive to Ruby's older sister apprehensively due to her phrasing before she resigned and agreed. "Yes… Jaune seems to lack grace in his swordplay and it appears that using his left hand isn't exactly helping with that."

But Ruby wasn't satisfied with that conclusion. Exasperated, she shook her head slowly and narrowed her eyes. "Then _why_ is he even doing it?"

"Can't you see?" Weiss said to her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her light-blue pupils met bewildered silver before nodding themselves towards the large screen across the arena pit. "Look. It's _working._"

True enough to her partner's word, Jaune's Aura bar was barely dented while Cardin's own was already well into the orange. The combined efforts of her teammate's constant bullet fire and his glancing blows seemed to be winning in a clear battle of attrition. Really, the only meaningful strike that Jaune had taken in the fight was the punch near the start, and that had only scratched his Aura supply.

Blake's hand came down from in front of her mouth and returned to its position in her folded arms. There was something shaky in her amber eyes, but Ruby didn't dwell on that too long as the reserved girl spoke, "He's figured out that he doesn't _need_ his swordplay to be any better to win. He's using his left hand."

"What?" Suffice to say, Ruby was lost. She turned to Pyrrha silently for answers and the taller girl thankfully followed through.

"He caught Cardin off-guard and off-rhythm," she explained – her emerald eyes analysing the two combatants. "Previously, the two had interacted while Jaune was using his right hand and Cardin's mind seemingly locked into gear that he was fighting someone with that sort of style. Some strikes are easier with a left-handed grip; if you couple that with the fact that some people aren't very well acquainted with fighting left-handed opponents, I would say that Jaune is purposefully lowering the bar for his technique in favour of actually landing blows on an opponent who is ill-experienced."

"But this would only work on someone like Cardin," Blake muttered quietly. "Someone unexperienced and unable to adapt. If he tried it with any of us, I doubt it would work."

"Perhaps," agreed Pyrrha. "But who knows? Perhaps he may also find a strategy that will only ever work with us specifically."

Blake tightened her grip on her elbows – an action invisible to anyone but herself and certainly to Ruby, who fell into her seat and started to slip down the backrest. "Wow."

She wondered if Jaune was even aware that he was doing all of this. The answer had to be yes, right? He had to have planned all of this out. And that was sort of cool. It was like he was thinking five steps ahead.

"Indeed…" Pyrrha seemed to sigh as she very slightly fell into her chair and continued to watch the battle with a scrutinizing gaze.

But even so, her hands clutched the ends of the armrests slightly tighter as there was a painful wretch in her stomach. Ruby couldn't shake the bad feeling in her gut and the butterflies didn't want to settle. The leader of Team RASB had an eerie sense of dread looming over the confidence in her teammate.

/-/

Crocea Mors clanged against Cardin's body, sparking his Aura and making him buckle slightly as the blade slid off his shoulder and forcing him to bend a knee. In weak retaliation, the boy wilding swung his mace backhandedly – a strike that Jaune easily ducked under and delivered a spinning back-handed slice of his own to the opposite shoulder, dropping the larger boy to his armour-clad knees completely.

Jaune took a step forward, ready to slam the golden pommel of his weapon into Cardin's soft cheek until a familiar pang in the back of his head warned him to dodge. Deep-blue widening, the blond swayed back with a long back-step and a cold sweat flickered from his forehead during the action.

In front of him was Cardin's outstretched hand – clasping so hard that you could have seen the veins popping. "Tch," he spat.

That was close. Raising his left wrist to bring Crocea Mors back into position, Jaune calmed himself and watched Cardin bring himself back up to his own two feet using that two-handed mace of his as something of a third leg. If he had pushed forward, it would have been brought to a grapple-off and Jaune's ground game wasn't exactly good. In fact, it wasn't trained at _all._ If Cardin had any experience what so ever, it would have been game-over for him right then and there.

His grip on the royal-blue hilt of Crocea Mors tightened slightly and the grip on his gun loosened.

It was working. His strategy. Through constant whittling, Jaune was bringing the mass of person known as Cardin Winchester down inch by inch. But that wasn't enough. Jaune wasn't here to just _beat _Cardin. He was here to beat a _lesson_ into him. Why?

Chalk it up to Vul. Jaune always did.

So, in light of his goal – Jaune kicked off and dropped his gun in the process. Cardin, quite understandably, was surprised but the feeling didn't stop him from lashing out with a straight, horizontal swing aimed for his opponent's head. It was blind. Almost childish. But it _was_ on-point.

If Jaune continued running in such a linear fashion, the mace would crash into his neck and probably shatter his spine twice over without the power of Aura. Closer and closer it came. Every millisecond was another inch, yet Jaune continued to run forward in a straight line.

…And then, everything blacked out.

/-/

Ruby's eyes widened; their metal tint getting ever brighter as she watched the mace close in on her close friend's neck. Straight from the side. She didn't need to be a doctor or anything to know that it would cause some serious damage, even with Aura to protect him.

And as Cardin's weapon came closer towards Jaune's neck, the small girl could do nothing but close her eyes – unable to view what was inevitable to become of her friend. But even from behind her eyelids, the flash of light was blinding.

/-/

Blake's eyes narrowed; their golden tint burning as she watched the spiked metal mace jet towards her partner's neck in what seemed to be slow motion. Perhaps it was partly in due to her nature as a cat faunus, but her pupils dilated and narrowed as if to focus more clearly on every single movement. Each step at every second.

Each muscle twitch at every fraction of one.

Jaune was going to get hit – that was without a doubt.

Her pupils dilating was a horrible call, even if it was without knowledge of what was to follow. The flash of light that exploded from the arena was blinding especially to her heightened senses.

/-/

Cardin's eyes narrowed and his teeth grit themselves harder, preparing themselves for the impact to come. After all that moving around, Jaune was just now offering himself up on a silver platter? Not like he would complain, of course – that made bashing his skull in all the easier. Honesty, it pissed him off.

As much as he hated to admit it, Jaune was strong. Stronger than him? No. He wasn't. He couldn't be. Because if he was, that would mean that Cardin was weak. Cardin couldn't be weak. For the sake of those the idiots back on his team but – more importantly – the sake of his ideals.

If he wasn't strong then those he loved would die at the hands of the faunus. Of the White Fang. Winchesters were known for their hate of the faunus and Cardin was well aware. But they had taken so much from him and his family; his ancestors, that the rage would sustain and continue to build for years to come.

How could someone like Jaune side with _them? _Animals. Violent animals that have now shown their true colours yet again with the White Fang. He knew that the whole 'peace' thing was nothing more than a façade. The news wasn't exactly withholding much information on their rampages. Villages burnt. People massacred. Families broken.

Just like his own.

His mace crept towards his opponent's neck and even in the face of the dark metal, Jaune's dark blue eyes hid a fire of undiscernible origin. Cardin would snuff it out. If only to prove a point. He was strong. And he had the strength to stop the filthy faunus and all their evils once and for all.

The snail's pace of his weapon turned into a flash of black; Cardin's mace smashed into the side of Jaune's neck.

His eyes wouldn't stay open for much longer, though who was to say that they were open to begin with?

/-/

He wanted to get through this fight _without_ having to use it. His Semblance. But here he was, watching Cardin's mace fly into the side of his neck almost as if the entire thing was in slow motion. Jaune's Semblance was confusing to say the least, but he knew how it worked – at least to an extent.

Fractions of seconds flew by but it was more than enough time for Jaune's golden-white Aura to flood his body. That was nothing more than regular pre-emptive Aura protection. However, the flow of Aura from his soul suddenly changed. It didn't amplify. It didn't condense. It didn't grow in volume. Instead, the Aura that had compiled had all but disappeared, leaving something else entirely in its place.

And as the mace connected onto the external layer of the thin patch of Aura that covered the point of impact, a flash of light many times more powerful than any Atlesian flashbang or stun grenade could ever hope to produce exploded from Jaune. And with it, Cardin was blown back like some wet rag – mace ripped from his palms like a baby being ridden of its shaker.

Cardin's heavy set of metal armour clattered onto the floor, still completely in-tact, but Jaune left no time for the boy to recollect his sense of sight or awareness – for that matter. The place that the mace had made contact with did actually manage to shatter the small layer of Aura that was placed there as leftover by-product of his Semblance and made full contact with his neck.

In short, it hurt like a bitch.

In long, Jaune managed to blow back and disorientate Cardin as expected using his Semblance – disarming him all the while – and giving him a massive advantage for as long as he could hold onto it for at the cost of physical pain and probably a large bruise that would be painfully obvious after this fight. He actually probably used a bit too much Aura than he should have in stunning Cardin like that.

If one were to look at the Aura monitors right now, Cardin would have still been in the orange and was in danger of teetering into the red. However, Jaune's was now only now starting to dip into the yellow despite taking the massive and direct hit to the neck from Cardin's two-handed mace. Even with his massive Aura supplies, taking something like that head-on was sure to leave Jaune barely hanging onto the yellow or maybe even dunk him into the orange.

That wasn't the case however, as Aura was instead expelled via his Semblance rather than being used to tank damage. Granted, it left him to take the damage himself, though his Semblance did prevent him from being blown off balance and it was thanks to it that he was now straddling Cardin and ruthlessly bringing his fists down onto his unguarded face.

"You think-" Jaune's right fist brought itself violently down onto Cardin's cheek and he would be lying if he said he didn't take some delight in watching his face snap in the direction of his punch. "-faunus are the spawn of the devil, huh?"

Just within the timeframe that small phrase, the blonde had already struck the blinded boy under him a multitude of times. Truth be told, he was just copying what he saw Vul do from time to time. Right, left, elbow. Elbow, elbow, hammer-fist. Striking Aura repeatedly with your bare fists hurt though, Jaune figured as pounding was felt internally within his fists. Who would have figured?

Cardin's face lacked blood, though the repeated flashes of grey signified damage was being dealt. The brown-haired boy couldn't even open his eyes through, if he tried, all he would have seen was white from Jaune's Semblance-induced explosion of light. "The root of all evil, right?!" There was a brutal almost half-smile that graced Jaune's face as he yelled. It was a manic expression that Cardin couldn't see but could surely _feel_ as the unrestricted malice from it radiated like a fire's heat.

"You're a fucking idiot!" Were the harsh words expelled from Jaune's mouth as he linked his two hands together and slammed them square into Cardin's nose, causing his head to fire back into the concrete floor behind him and bounce back up for another beating. "A fucking kid! How dare you pin all the blame onto a single group of people! You don't know anything!"

His arms drew back only to buck forth again, causing Cardin to grunt in obvious pain. The crazed half-smile disfigured itself into a disgusted snarl that had Jaune's canines on display for all to see as the flash effect of his Semblance began to wear off.

At first, he just wanted to beat the shit out of Cardin as a message. Humans could have been as evil as any faunus, just like how faunus could have been as evil as any human. But as he started to vent, Jaune was slowly beginning to let his actual emotions loose. He was… genuinely _offended_ by Cardin's ignorance. It was the fuel that allowed organizations like the White Fang to get leverage and power their own twisted causes and throw the world into terror and chaos.

It was what caused him to lose the first real… friend he had ever made outside of his place in the middle of nowhere. Back home he was lonely. Bullied at times, though his sisters never let it stay that way. Jaune was thankful, but at the same time resentful because it was that very fact that made people afraid to approach him. Imagine how it felt to finally make a real friend.

And imagine how it felt for it to be taken away, by the White Fang no less.

People were ignorant, and Jaune hated it. And that hate could be felt with every punch and every elbow that was sent down into Cardin's barely-guarded mug. In the end, Jaune could feel himself losing to his own hatred every single second that passed. What could have shown human evil more than that? The morbid thought was pathetic, really.

Jaune brought his clenched fist down once more to repent his hate further, though widened his eyes at the sight before him. In front of him, his own punch was caught within the palm of Cardin who looked as though he could barely even open one of his eyes from the pain of being punched repeatedly in the face.

Trying to strike with his other hand, Jaune's leather gloved fist was similarly caught by Cardin's second hand. The two boys began to struggle against each other's might to see who could over-power the other first. Seconds passed as the blond's teeth ground up against each other but, even if it was only for a moment, his attention was drawn to the state of Cardin.

There was blood pouring out of his nose in a constant stream, flowing to the side of his lips and off of his cheek. He could see the early stages of a black-eye around the one that Cardin could barely open. The pink flesh around his cheeks looked more purple than usual, like his own neck where Cardin's mace had struck prior – bruises were sure to appear a couple of hours later.

Dark-blue eyes instead focused on their opponent's injuries, Jaune could only ponder why he was so damaged if he still had Aura left, even after that massive beating. Honestly, the blond could barely believe that was a possibility… unless…

_This bastard…_ cursed Jaune as the pieces began to click in his mental space. Cardin had purposely supressed his already dangerously low Aura to prevent it from being used up defending him. Why, you ask? To order to stop him from losing the bout. Despite how he looked, it seemed that there was something of a brain hidden in there.

Weight suddenly seemed insignificant; Jaune felt as though he was floating in mid-air before his leather-padded back crashed against the concrete not to dissimilar to how Cardin fell against the floor when he was blown back earlier. His belts and the multitude of grenades and clips shook from the impact, though none extra came off. Wait… was he…?

Jaune supposed there was a reason that he tried avoiding a grapple in the first place.

"No, _you _don't get it!" Before Jaune even had the ability to fully comprehend the situation, there was a solid feeling of condensed mass displacing the flesh and muscle on his face that was swiftly dampened by the flow of Aura he instinctively pushed onto his skin. "They took everything from me! From my father! My family! People who I've loved were taken, never to be seen again, and the only closure we had of their deaths was a head in the fucking mailbox and a note from those White Fang fuckers! All because us Winchesters defended ourselves against the faunus when they started to rebel all those years ago!"

Both of Jaune's arms inched towards his face to better protect the more sensitive areas from Cardin's unrelenting barrage of attacks. Like his own from earlier, Jaune could feel the emotion behind every one of his raging opponent's punches. And, despite how little he had left, Cardin's Aura basically screamed the same message so loud that Jaune didn't have to bother concentrating to hear it.

"We didn't care at first-" Punch. "-we were content minding our own business." Punch. "Then we hear that one of our own was massacred by the of faunus for no goddamn reason other than they were human!" Another punch found itself slipping through Jaune's guard and his neck snapped back under the force despite his own Aura. "Winchesters were proud, even all those hundreds of years ago; there was no way were going to take it lying down! So we retaliated – joined the opposing side of the war and fought to get our revenge! Look where it fucking got us; the White Fang are back and taking innocent lives – even my own family – yet fucking again!"

Even under the rain of punches, it seemed that the blond didn't bother trying to defend himself any more than he already was. In-fact, it was almost as if his guard was loosening and the gap between his two outward forearms was widening ever so slightly. Jaune was letting Cardin lose himself in his fury and passion, just like he had lost himself in his hatred.

There were always sides. Jaune wasn't an idiot - he got to know that much about life from his year of travelling with Vul. He had always known that Cardin must have had some sort of reason for his vile resentment of the faunus. But, on the other hand, that didn't suddenly mean Jaune forgave him. Cardin was still ignorant. An arguably justified ignorance, maybe, though ignorant nonetheless.

Just as there existed different sides, evil chose none specifically and spread itself across everything and anything it could. Nobody could have been inherently all good, Jaune believed. Not him. Definitely not Vul. An innocent and bright smile projected itself his closed eyelids along with hopeful and shining eyes of silver but Jaune wiped away the image swiftly.

_No. Not even Ruby. _

Maybe the same held true for good, and even the most twisted and broken individuals held a semblance of purity within themselves hidden beneath the cracks of their shattered person – though that may have been another conversation entirely.

Countless punches flew onto Jaune's subconsciously held swathe of yellow-white Aura but he couldn't feel them; he denied them the honour of being registered as he continued to think.

Part of him felt bad for Cardin and the shell he was stuck in, one that he had no say in. It's not like he could ever think anything different. Well, Jaune shared his hatred of the White Fang, that was for sure – but he wasn't so foolish as to think they were the only evil ones. Even he had tortured; breaking arms and cutting excruciatingly specific patterns into flesh to get people to talk. He had killed people who undoubtedly had others waiting for them – shooting them on the spot with his black and yellow handgun without a second thought before thrusting Crocea Mors through the chest of another.

He had done and seen countless unspeakable things that a seventeen-year-old teenager should never have been subjected to doing or seeing. Jaune wasn't normal, and maybe it was because he was abnormal that he could even feel pity for a person like Cardin who knew no better.

"So, yeah, I hate the faunus!" Cardin had shouted, though there was a strange undertone to the exclamation that sounded almost he was… crying. And as Jaune struggled to find an opening to regain his vision and raise his eyelids, he couldn't help but widen them further upon seeing the smallest of tears spill out of the larger boy's eyes. "I hate all of them for all the despair they brought and still bring to me and my family – my blood! Why don't you get that?!"

"I do."

Arm drawn back and suspended in mid-air, Cardin's face froze in shock of the words spoken from the blond under him. The single streak of liquid that stemmed from the side of one of his eyes was more apparent to Jaune now than ever. "What?"

"I get it," Jaune repeated – parting his guard and speaking more clearly through the open space between his arms. One of them remained there while the other dipped down and fell to his side in what appeared to be exhaustion. "You think that you've suffered because of the faunus. They take and take from you… so you hate them."

A more complicated expression came from Cardin – one mixed with hope and desperation. The stream of liquid on his face flew away from his face as he whipped his head back and forth in disbelief. "So you get it! Then why-?!"

"But instead, you fail to see that you – your blood – is at as much fault," Jaune said with a straight face.

"What?"

"If your family were never so full of hubris and killed countless in the name of revenge and justice, do you think that the White Fang would have ever held a grudge against you until this day?" The words spoken didn't have any visible effect on Cardin, though he appeared to try and argue and failed through the flapping of his lips and the apparent lack of words. "You responded to evil with evil, yet you blame the faunus for being the root of it."

There was a splutter that seemed to follow a sob. "But-!"

"I get it!" Jaune yelled with more resolution. Cardin could do nothing but clench his suspended fist tighter as he listed further to what his opponent had to say. "It's not your fault, Cardin."

It was this damn world's. Evil was everything. Everywhere has evil. In humans, in faunus, in Grimm – everywhere you look, evil has run its hands across it and there's nothing that can be ever done about it. That was Jaune's point, here.

"And it's because I get it that I'm doing this."

The arm that kept what remained of his guard up flashed towards the hem of Cardin's gold-engraved iron breastplate and pulled on it tightly, revealing the slightest of openings that one could stuff their hand in if they tried. At the same time, the hand that Jaune had dipped to the side of him in what anyone else would have assumed was exhaustion shot back up and did just that – though in its palm was a strange device that had its pin pulled by the experienced movement of Jaune's own thumb. His other hand let go and the breastplate snapped back onto the brown-haired boy's chest.

Cardin spluttered yet another time, but this one was more in complete shock than overwhelmingly conflicted emotion. Nobody could blame him for pushing himself off Jaune and fumbling around his armour in a vain attempt to get whatever went in, out. With the pressure from his legs alleviated, Jaune brought his knees to his chest and kicked the other boy straight in the gut – sending him into the air while his left hand clenched itself, letting Aura flow through the bracer before it shined a vibrant purple.

From a considerable way away, Crocea Mors' shield begin to rattle with a similar glow from behind it – originating from a connected vial of purple gravity dust – before it sprung towards Jaune's bracer and connected magnetically with a click, protecting its owner from the lightshow to come.

Miss Goodwitch stepped forward, dropping her tablet and bringing her riding crop forth to activate her Semblance, but it was too late. Not even the layers of iron and flesh managed to quell the building rumbling and deafening ripple of the dust-based explosives that was stuffed down Cardin's breastplate as orange and red burst from within the metal container, leaving only smoke and dust as the audience was left to stare at slack-jawed.

/-/

Team RASB and PYRN had similar expressions between them. Ruby and Nora watched with hands clasped around their mouths while other sterner individuals, like the two stoic and raven-haired members of RASB and PYRN respectively, held their gaze on the cloud of smoke with folded arms. Pyrrha sat with her ever eloquent posture, hands resting in her lap peacefully though the emerald colour of her eyes were harsher than normal.

Not all too surprisingly, Yang was the first one to break the silence between the two teams. With a quirked eyebrow, she watched dark cloud of smoke fall slowly – lilac orbs darting between the tiny pieces of metal that were expelled from the haze and bounced onto the arena floor. "I'm starting to notice a pattern here…" She started with a wavering undertone, arms crossed awkwardly. "First the Emportusk and now this? I'm starting to wonder if Jaune has a thing for explosions…"

"Yang." The steely tone of the blonde's redheaded partner caused her to turn her gaze towards the girl to see that her eyes weren't leaving the site of the explosion – waiting patiently for the curtain of smoke to fall.

Understanding, the other drew their eyes away and chose to focus on the same sight. "Yeah, sorry."

From the other side of the row, a pale hand clenched onto elegant white fabric and crinkled it slightly. "I can't believe Jaune would do something like that…" Weiss muttered under her breath. Her snow-coloured eyebrows quivered and she seemed conflicted. "He didn't need to _kill _Cardin. He basically already lost."

"No…" Blake replied in a similar manner of out-loud thinking.

Turning to her teammate, Weiss couldn't seem to believe her. "What?"

"Jaune wasn't fighting to win," she replied idly to the white-haired girl a few seats across from her. "He was fighting to _prove._"

Blake's answer didn't satisfy Weiss at all as her expression turned bewildered and her tone turned offended at the other girl's vague set of words. She didn't seem to believe her, saying, "Then prove _what, _exactly?"

She couldn't resist rolling her own golden eyes and answering with: _His philosophy, duh._ At times she forgot that others didn't possess the same heightened senses she did. Maybe fine-tuning and focussing what one heard in the midst of a shouting and riled crowd of spectators wasn't exactly a thing for everyone. Did that mean the passion-filled exclamations between the two combatants were unheard to everyone but herself, possibly Miss Goodwitch, and them?

It was possible.

Though, to Weiss, it seemed like Blake was just mocking her due to her silence and very obvious eye-roll. Turning back around with a quiet harrumph, Weiss drew back her icy pupils and pointed them back at the arena center.

The truth was, Cardin was most-likely fine. At the very start of the match, when Jaune made everyone turn away their attention with his ridiculous claim, he had unclipped a grenade from one of his belts and proceeded to empty it quite significantly before stuffing it into what looked to be his trouser pocket. Blake, of course, ignored his stupid ruse and was able to lay witness to all of that.

Jaune never intended to hurt Cardin too bad, though it was undeniable that he wanted to bring him some pain in the first place – or he would have never prepared to use a point-blank grenade, of all things.

There was a sharp gasp from two seats across; Ruby seemed to notice something while Blake was still idle in thought.

"Look…" She said quietly, bringing her small hands down from her mouth. "The smoke's clearing…"

Almost at the same time, everyone seemed to stiffen slightly and either lean forwards and straighten their backs. Sure enough, Ruby was right; the smoke _was _clearing and the aftermath of the bout was slowly becoming apparent.

Jaune was hiding beneath his shield and there were black trail marks on the ground from where he was sent skidding back slightly due to the explosion. Though, that beautiful shield had not a single scratch on its silver surface to speak of despite its proximity to the blast. On the other side of the arena lay Cardin, who had his metal chest-plate ruptured outwards violently and his bodysuit blown to bits, leaving his red-ish skin exposed. It looked like a first-degree burn.

Rushing forward, Miss Goodwitch crouched next to Cardin and examined his body, hovering her hand over him and running it down – eyes following – before nodding her head with a determined face and beckoning a specific area in the crowd to come forward. At once, Team CDRL jumped over the hard-light barriers and landed in the arena pit as all three members seemed to receive instructions from their teacher, of which they had a hard time listening to as their eyes darted worriedly to their team leader.

Eventually, they all nodded their heads simultaneously before coming next to Cardin and grabbing him. The one with the stupid hair-cut and the other one with brown-hair hoisted the larger boy's arms over their shoulders while the grey-hared one seemed to clear the way before they disappeared out of the arena entirely through one of the connecting staircases running straight through the middle of the spectator seats.

When they were safely out of sight, Miss Goodwitch next approached Jaune – notably with much less urgency than she did with Cardin. She crossed her arms expectantly while above his laying figure and tapped her black heels rhythmically. As if dreading what he would see, the blond moved his shield as slowly as possible before locking with the witchy eyes of his professor. He seemed almost afraid as he picked himself up and dusted off his combat trousers awkwardly.

Not even Blake could hear what words were exchanged between the two though, by the look of the face that Jaune suddenly pulled, he wasn't excited by them. Miss Goodwitch repeated something as if to make sure Jaune had understood, to which he nodded his head slowly before slowly walking towards his dropped weapons and retrieving them.

After what felt like an eternity, the entire class seemed to focus in on Jaune as he walked up the same set of stairs with his head held low. As he passed by RASB and PYRN, not even the worried whisper of Ruby seemed to attract his attention as he continued to shamble out of sight.

As the sound of the arena's double doors swinging open and shut echoed in the arena theatre, Miss Goodwitch spoke up – already back in her spot with her tablet in hand. "Please pay attention for the next bout," she informed professionally, as if nothing extraordinary had transpired in the last few minutes.

There were hushed mumbles and mutters, though every student's attention was surely brought back onto their commanding professor in due time.

But before the monitor switched its display to the familiar set of roulettes slots to pick the next combatants, Blake got a good look at the ending Aura amounts of the previous fight. Cardin's, understandably, was completely zero. He had used whatever Aura he had left to try and protect him from the grenade.

Jaune's? Only halfway into the yellow - about seventy percent despite the beating he took. All of that resulted in only him getting to seventy percent?

It was a thought Blake chose not to dwell on as the roulette ran once again.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**Hey, everyone. **

**I don't know how people might feel about this kind of chapter. There were multiple thoughts going into this, some of which being that I wanted Cardin to have 'justified' reasons for disliking the faunus rather than him just being an asshole as well as exposing Jaune's thoughts on evil as a whole. **

**He's been through a lot in the past year and I haven't been privy about everything just yet.**

**Execution wise, I'm unsure as to how I did. People may not take to lightly to giving a purely unlikeable character like Cardin a reason, solely due to the fact that it intervenes with them hating a character without feeling guilty or coming off as insensitive. Sort of dumb, but that's just how it is. The tension between Blake and Jaune isn't something I've forgotten about either, and it's why you're getting more that's vaguely from her point of view as opposed to maybe Ruby. **

**I could sprinkle in off-handed stuff about how she acts from other POVs but I feel like we can better connect to what she feels if we're actually inside her head at certain points.**

**Either way, that concludes the Jaune vs Cardin mini-arc and I think it's safe to say that there won't be a 'Jaunedice' side-plot thing that's going to take your time.**

**Now. For something that I'm sure many people are confused about…. Jaune's Semblance. No, I didn't retcon it from an earlier chapter when he used it on Ruby – it's the same thing. I won't disclose anything about it or its importance, but I will say that it's not Amplification but something else entirely. Also, yes, it's 'confusing, to say the least' just like Jaune said. Feel free to theory craft from the two instances it was used.**

**Either way, thanks for sticking with this and…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	15. Chapter 15: Blackbirds of a Feather

**Author's Notes:**

**Hey everyone! Shul here.**

**New chapter of Under the Wing pretty early. You know, it's strange not writing something for two or so months then being able to chug through 3 chapters pretty comfortably. By the time of posting, 16 is drafted up and just needs proofing by yours truly before I go through with that too. **

**Last chapter we had Jaune and Cardin face off, ending with an explosive declaration of Jaune's views on the state of evil and his general ideas about the concept altogether. Evil is everywhere, even when you can't see it. Is he wrong? Maybe. We can only see with time. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter thoroughly as we eventually get back to him.**

**You may have forgotten but last time we saw Qrow, he was taking out a couple of White Fang stragglers, coming across some strange equipment for dust extraction. He later received a call from Ozpin concerning a 'favour' in the form of a text to a certain someone. It didn't end well for the person in question.**

**Not much to say this time, other than enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

_"Yo. Little birdie told me that there's something going on in school. Would appreciate you doing a little work for me. I spy with my little eye, something gathering from shadows. Might not be available. Free to go to head. –Crow"_

Some might have said it was vague. Qrow would have said they were dumb.

"Hope Oz knows what he's doing…" Eh, who was he kidding. Oz was by no means him. If that meant anything, it surely meant his concerns were unfounded.

Amidst the twittering of the birds and the calm rustle of the leaves, Qrow shoved his scroll into the depths of his trousers and sighed – perched up on a branch with one leg dangling loosely off the side as he looked over the various crates of equipment that he had just rummaged through. Yeah, he'd have to burn that all later. Thankfully, he didn't plan on staying here any longer so the smoke that would start pluming up wouldn't give up his position to any more of the red-masks in the area. Hell, maybe there was something or someone worse out there looking for him.

There was a strange flapping noise that was followed by the shaking of leaves.

"Hey."

Something like _that._

Qrow groaned audibly, running a hand across from the top of his forehead all the way down to the stubble on his chin. In response, the female voice seemed condescending in tone. "Aw, don't be like that little bro. You're never like this when you come to see me."

"The difference is consent, Ray. Consent." Slumping further onto the trunk of the tree, still splayed out on a larger than average branch. He didn't bother turning around, he knew who was there and – quite frankly – Qrow could do without seeing his older sister's face, much less that stupid mask of hers.

"That's funny," Raven Branwen laughed in the most un-entertained way possible. "I don't seem to recall any consent from my side all those times you came to 'visit'."

His leg seemed to swing harder off of the branch as Qrow's expression came flat. "Well, it's Ozpin. You know how he is."

"I do." A strange venom laced her voice as the air between the two siblings seemed to get heavier. "That's why I did what I did." And while Qrow couldn't see it, he knew his own sister well enough to know what kind of face she was putting on at the time.

Seconds passed with only the birds filling the lack of noise between. Eventually, Qrow spoke up – voice lacking the usual spunk and wittiness. "Not now, Ray. I doubt you came all the way to see me just to bring that up."

"Yeah." Was her response, lacking as it was. There was a click. _Her mask,_ Qrow thought. It was proceeded by a rustling of branch somewhere behind him and a sigh that – surprisingly – didn't come from him. "Nicholas was heading out the other day."

In a flash, Qrow span around to try find his sister while screaming, "Wait?! For real?!" The motion off-threw his own balance on the thin natural platform beneath him. At the very last moment, it was his torn cape that caught the branch and acted as his saving limb. Despite his precarious situation, Qrow still had the gall to snap his eyes to meet the unsurprised crimson gaze of Raven who had her arms folded and a leg crossed over another. "You aren't just saying that to fuck with me, are you?"

The branch that his cape was hanging onto made a peculiar cracking sound.

"Ah, shit-baskets." Were the man's last words before plummeting down onto the floor and landing with a painful thud. Damn, that hurt…"

A more elegant thud came down next to him and if that didn't piss him off, the voice that followed and the words that were said definitely did. "You realise you can turn into a bird, right?"

Shaking his head rapidly left and right like a dog might have to dry itself off, Qrow's mouth could be seen repeating what Raven said as he brushed off the grass and dirt that ended up on his clothes. "Oh, I can? Thanks, I didn't notice. You say it like it's easy…" The last part was muttered under his breath.

"Fucking dick," Raven spat to the side, mask under her arm while the other was on her hip cockily.

"But wait," the huntsman interrupted – ignoring the violent insult that was sent hurtling in his direction. "You said Nicholas was heading to Beacon – you weren't lying about that, were you?"

Drawing her head back to face Qrow, Raven couldn't exactly meet her brother's eyes as she rolled her own. "Well, I didn't say he was headed to _Beacon…_" She darted her red orbs back to her brother, only to see him pointing a finger with his eyebrows raised. Qrow wasn't exactly having shit right now, she concluded before sighing and resigning. "Yes, he's headed to Beacon."

In a theatrical display of gestures, the greying huntsman threw his head up and over and slapped his hands to the side of his legs while cursing. "Fuck."

"Come on, you can't tell me that you _didn't_ expect this," Raven said, speaking to Qrow's back as he seemed to grip his chin and mutter to himself. She took a step forward and continued, "Nicholas wouldn't just give up on his family unless he knew for sure they were dead." She seemed then to realise something deeper in that statement; quite evidently as the long-haired ex-huntress turned to the side in search of something she couldn't see.

Her head came back soon enough as Qrow turned around to explain himself. "I _did. _I just… not this soon."

"He knows Beacon starts around this time of the year. Give him some credit."

"Oh, yeah, like you? We all know that if Taiyang wasn't around-" Qrow froze at the sight of Raven's eyes staring daggers that cut through his Aura and dug into his skin. "Nevermind. Look, I knew that I would have to deal with Nick eventually but it's too early."

/-/

Somewhere on the western side of the Mistrali coast, a lone man clad in a thick navy blue fur coat had his back against the wall, staring at a distant horizon filled with shimmering waves that reflected the light of the sun.

That same man sneezed quite violently before rubbing his wrist over his nose.

"That must be Amber…" He came to the conclusion. She was undoubtedly awake right now, and - despite her definite concern – Nicholas found it sweet that she would be thinking of him even when he couldn't make much time for his daughters. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon, honey."

_Back with your big brother._

/-/

Raven didn't seem to buy it as she rose an eyebrow. "What about Oz? I get _you_ – but Oz? That old bastard always has something under his sleeve," she sneered.

The younger sibling seemed to jerk slightly before bringing both of his hands to his face and pressing his fingers together before taking a breath through his nose. "About that… I _may _have told him that I had it all under control so that he would give me less assignments so I could deal with the kid."

It was Raven's turn to sigh dramatically, exhaling the word: "Idiot." In the same breath. "So what?" The woman pushed. "You know he'll burn down Beacon to get that same kid back, right? Not that I care, but…"

"Yeah…" He sounded defeated. Qrow put both of his hands to his face and walked to a nearby tree before slamming his forehead onto it and ignoring the multiple acorns that conked onto his head. They weren't even in season. "Oz is going to kill me."

"Not if Jolly ol' Nick gets to him first." There was visible surprise on Raven's face as she heard her brother speak the surest of probably anything else she had ever hear him say in his life.

"He won't."

After a pause, the long-haired tribe leader slumped her shoulders and spoke quietly. "Guess you're right. But hey, look at it this way: don't show up – don't have to deal with it. Leave it to Ozpin to clean your mess up, like always." Back in the day, that was what Qrow was known for. A great agent and a horrible janitor.

Qrow seemed to breath in and hold his breathe. It came out eventually, and in the same breath of air he said, "You know I can't." There was a flicker of roses and white in the corner of Raven's eye that disappeared into the thick of the forest before she had time to confirm it.

Another pause before Raven scoffed. "Guess you're right." For what felt like the three-hundredth time, silence came over the both of them as Qrow still had his head resting on the bark of a tree while Raven watched with her arms crossed, speaking only to his back.

"Why… why are you telling me this, Raven?" His sister released a powerful groan that came straight from the back of her throat, causing Qrow to turn around in surprise. "What?"

"Sorry," she said – clutching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "Nicholas literally just said the same thing to me… I don't even know how long ago."

"Wait a second, you _spoke_ to him?" There was another groan but Raven's arm dropped to her side weakly as she faced the canopy of the forest. It wasn't always that his sister would act like this, so Qrow could help but let out a small chuckle. "_Why?"_

"Because it was fun, I guess? Because I could? I dunno, alright?"

Leaning back into the tree he had slammed his head into minutes earlier, Qrow shut his eyes and mumbled to himself. "…'Cuz you could, you say? I guess we're more similar than I thought."

There was a sound of fabric ruffling beside him and when the huntsman opened his eyes, he was greeted to a Raven who was in a position similar to him by an adjacent tree. Looking at him like some sort of insect, she growled, "The hell are you smiling at?"

"Nothing." Shoving his hands into his pockets, Qrow's red eyes trailed upwards and - after a second - Raven followed suite.

And for the three-hundred and first time, silence came over them as the two Branwen twins stared up into the canopy and admired the way that the rays of light seemed to gracefully flow into the holes between the leaves. Despite how it may seem, the Branwen twins didn't hate each other. They couldn't. They grew up in the same environment and experienced the same hardships, more often than not _with_ one another. They were siblings, after all (as much as they didn't want to admit it).

Raven and Qrow were simply two siblings that disagreed. One wanted to carry on the will of the one they lost while the other thinks that they should instead root out the source of what caused them to lose it in the first place. What exactly that root was?

Yet another thing they disagreed on.

"You know," Raven said quietly – more tired than usual. "You never told me much about that kid." Silence yet again, though the less awkward kind. "Nicholas' kid," she felt the need to clarify.

Qrow paused for a second, looking down onto his chest and grabbing the middle of it as he rubbed it idly. It seemed like more than a simple gesture in thought. "Guess not," The huntsman replied with half a mind.

In an almost uncharacteristic laugh, the older-by-a-few-seconds sibling recollected a past memory. "Remember when he used all those traps he set for _you_ against _me?"_

Echoing the chuckle, Qrow's smile seemed to answer the question. "Well it wasn't _my_ fault you found us the day we were going to spar. I totally already knew about them, by the way."

"Shut up," The raven-haired tribeswoman said, shaking her head. With a roll of her dark-red eyes it was evident she was having no bullshit. "Did you see your face? You were just as surprised as me. You might think you're tricky, but you've never been anything more than a bird-brain. Always have, always will." At Qrow's guilty admission in the form of a quiet laugh, Raven rolled her eyes.

"…You got any other stories before you fly back to the old bastard?" It appeared she had time for some more quality bonding time. It was nice, you know – about every other time they were this close they were either yelling each other's ears off or actually trying to slice them off with their weapons.

"Why?" Qrow asked, bringing his head down to look at his sister. "You like the kid or something?"

"You could say that," Raven said. She knew that Qrow was trying to make eye contact, but she ignored the invitation and chose to keep staring at the canopy above. "I guess he's interesting. There was something about those eyes… like they're covered in a haze."

With a hum, it appeared that Qrow understood. Or maybe he was just putting on airs. "Well, there is this one time we raided a red-mask White Fang camp after getting a tip from a village that may or may not be trampled and burnt to the ground… through no fault of your own, at least this time," he added.

"Oh?"

Qrow slid down the tree slightly to better angle his neck upwards, though this time not to be entranced by the Mistrali forestry. No, instead he did this to better remember what exactly happened. "Yeah," the huntsman answered. "It went a little something like…"

* * *

"Oh, God – oh, fuck!"

Those were the words that Qrow yelled to himself as he vaulted over a row of wooden crates with Harbinger in hand. Though, maybe more importantly, with the whizzing of an uncountable amount of bullets grazing his skin and hair.

Cringing at the feeling of the splintered wood on his trousers, the huntsman landed on the other side in a crouch before slamming his back into the low line of crates and pressing a few switches and buttons on Harbinger to shift its form from its greatsword to its double-barrelled shotgun. Following the completion of the mechanical gears' clinking, the completely competent and very experienced field agent's face shifted from its 'oh shit' form to its 'oh fuck' form when he soon realised that the kid was nowhere to be seen.

Qrow peaked his head over the line of crates to get a better look at the distance as he called out, "Kid! Kid, are you alright?!" Another volley of bullets crashed into the wood of the surprisingly thick crates, kicking up sawdust and forcing the huntsman to draw his head back down. With grit teeth, Qrow couldn't help but curse to himself. "Where the hell are you, kid?"

"Right here!"

"What the-?" Turning his neck to face the source of the voice, Qrow continued – darting his eyes between Jaune and the limited vision he could access above the makeshift wooden cover they were hiding behind. "What the hell happened back there? I said all sneaky-like, not _make-as-much-noise-as-you-can-like!_"

While he couldn't really blame him, Jaune didn't bother to pop his head over the cover line as he resigned and stumbled over his words. "Look- I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to switch cover like you taught me too but then this tall stack of boxes suddenly came apart and tumbled down! I think the rope securing them was frayed, or something…" Hand still gripped on those ratty metal weapons that served as a replacement for Crocea Mors, Jaune brought it to the flat of his head and began to rub in frustration. "Gah… my luck is the worst."

Assessing the situation above and over the crates, Jaune could only watch his mentor as he quickly dipped back down and answered off-handedly. "It's not yours."

"What?"

"Cover's minimal over the top," the huntsman quite professionally tuned out. Credit where credit was due, it seemed that Jaune was getting used to his eccentric mentor-esque figure and chose to listen to Qrow's assessment while he explained without even giving eye contact. "Five visible dots - Two left, three right. The camp proper is in sight and so is what looks to be the head tent. Plan was to steal and incapacitate but looks like it's turned into pillage and destroy. There'll be blood. I take the right; you take the left." Nodding his head as if confirming to himself, Qrow swivelled his head and attempted to do the same with his blond tag-along.

Instead of a determined expression, or at the very least one of complete disbelief at the situation unfolded, Qrow saw Jaune stare at his left hand, gripping the gun that he took from the village a couple of weeks ago where the White Fang invaded and bombed.

The one where he first killed a man.

Clicking his teeth, the huntsman resisted the urge to verbally complain. They didn't have time for this. It'd been five months, honestly he was surprised it even took that long. Wasn't the point of taking him under his wing to teach him about what being a huntsman was really about, anyway? Why _now_ was he worrying about what it meant for him?

"Hey!" Qrow reached over and shook Jaune's hoodie-clad shoulders. The leather padding on his front and back didn't extend that far or that high but that just meant he could move faster, if that wasn't already established.

He jumped at the feeling. "Yeah, I got you," he said. "Two on the left. Fire and run." Jaune shook his head and narrowed his eyebrows, lowering his gun to his side and lifting his sword-hand higher. One gun, one sword. It was another stance that Qrow and decided to experiment with and what better teacher than the field?

Well, _pain_ was the answer but Qrow would take what he could get.

"On three," Qrow said before pausing, if they all started firing at roughly the same time and had the same gun, then he had to listen. Listen to the constant firing of bullets that pierced the air and failed to pierce their cover – waiting. Waiting for when they were out and had to reload. The best opening would be then.

_One… _Not yet. _Two…_ Almost there, all he had to wait for was the- _Click! _The sounded repeated itself in different locations, confirming to Qrow a very important detail.

Said detail being that they were all now empty.

Bursting over the cover of crates, the huntsman yelled, "Three!" And the sound of his shotgun slugs exiting from the barrel drowned out the confused screeching of the boy he had left behind him.

* * *

Jaune opened his eyes, darting their cloudy dark-blue hue around the space he found himself in before taking a deep breath and running a hand across his face. Pushing himself off of the wall of the elevator he was leaning on, the huntsman-in-training could only come to the conclusion that he had been in a daydream of sorts.

_Damn Vul…_ He swore internally. Honestly speaking, it was hard to tell whether he was intentionally trying to mess with you or unintentionally trying to mess with you. To this day, Jaune didn't know which one ended with more people dead.

The ringing of the elevator was what reminded Jaune of what exactly he was doing in this confined space. Upon the opening of the double doors, the young man was almost blinded by the light that the very office seemed to bathe in as it looked down upon the courtyard of Beacon and into the city of Vale itself. It was a sight that Jaune had never seen before, especially not from this height, and he would be lying if he said it wasn't something to gawk at.

This was Professor Ozpin's office and he was here on the command of Miss Goodwitch due to the aftermath of his bout with Cardin. Right. _That_ whole debacle. The whole debacle that ended with one of them getting first-degree burns on their chest and lots of very sensitive thoughts coming out as words. Jaune was just scared that Miss Goodwitch may have been privy to them. The riled yells of the students that formulated the crowd put his mind to ease on whether or not anyone from outside the ring had heard them, though.

In any case, Jaune came to the conclusion that this conversation was going to be a fun one.

Taking careful but purposeful steps forward, he could see that back of Ozpin's head and the long shadow his tall form cast as he stared out at the horizon. If Jaune had to guess, he would say that this was something he did at least once a day. Not like he could blame the man, of course. If Jaune had this kind of view, he'd probably admire it just as often – if not, more.

"Sir? I'm supposed to talk to you?" Really, he could have worded that better and made it sound _not _like a question but the fighting from earlier had really drained him of the desire to do so. It was too much effort than it was worth, at least to Jaune.

"Or so I've been told," Ozpin replied. He turned around to face the Jaune and their eyes met – a dark sea of blue crashing against the solid cliffs of hazel where the cliffs stood firm. In his hand was a mug with steam softly billowing from the contents within, though the headmaster placed it on his desk before sitting himself down and gesturing for Jaune to do the same on the chair opposite from him.

Taking the invitation gratefully, the young man sat in a manner that didn't lack respect. Hands on his lap and straightening himself against the backrest, Jaune made it clear that he recognised Ozpin's position at the academy and would treat him as such. It was really only polite. Mama Arc raised a good boy, after all.

"Miss Goodwitch?"

At his rather brief inquiry that lacked any real substance, Ozpin chuckled much like a grandfather would to their naïve grandchild. "While it has only been a day or two, I trust that you have gotten a general feel for her character. My vice-principal likes to keep everyone up-to-date, so to speak. Not that I need it."

So that was a yes. Cool. Great.

As Jaune brought his head down to stare at the floor, Ozpin spoke up once again. "Don't look so down, Mister Arc. We're here to talk; I'm hardly about to chew you out."

It was strange how Ozpin seemed to blend his sophisticated way with words and what he might have considered to be terms that were more 'hip with the kids'. Either way, what he said had the intended effect and Jaune brought his head back up as tried his best to meet the gaze of his silver-haired headmaster.

He would refrain from telling the other that the reason he drew his head down was because of the growing headache he could feel from even being in the presence of this man. The natural aura he exuded as well as the message of his actual Aura made Jaune's head whirl and tumble.

"Yes, sir," Jaune said.

"Now," the headmaster started, linking his hands on the see-through table before him as he began to get into the actual meat of the discussion. "I hear that you caused some serious harm to another student… one Cardin Winchester, I believe." Jaune's mouth barely got to open before he was interrupted by the palm of Ozpin's hand. "Ah. Like I said, Mister Arc – while Miss Goodwitch likes to keep us informed, I don't exactly need all the details. This _is_ my school."

That shut Jaune up. His school indeed, he supposed.

"However, I also do understand that Mister Winchester has had somewhat of a questionable history concerning a certain population of the student body." A very roundabout way of saying he hated faunus, though the blond could understand the headmaster's want to not say something so bluntly inflammatory.

"I guess you could say that," agreed Jaune in a similarly dismissive fashion.

"Hm. Well," Ozpin continued, "with said history in mind is it safe to say that it had an impact on certain decisions today?"

It was an action he very much regretted, but Jaune's pupils drifted upwards to once more meet Ozpin's. In contrast to how he slowly brought them up, the teen brought them back down with haste upon seeing the headmaster's narrow eyes and understanding smile. It unnerved him.

"…Yes, sir." Choosing to go with the explanation that landed in his lap, Jaune came to the conclusion that saying 'no, sir, I wanted to tell Cardin that anyone can be evil in spite of their heritage or race by blowing him up from point blank with a grenade' probably wouldn't have worked in his favour.

There was a second of silence, one that turned into two. Then three. Soon, Jaune was wondering if Ozpin had seen right through him. What gave him away? Was it his intonation? The hesitance in his reply? Once again, before Jaune even had enough time to finish his train of thought – Ozpin surprised him by unfurling his hands and slowly leaning forward over the desk. Jaune felt a firm hand land onto his shoulder

Despite undoubtedly noticing him flinch, Ozpin spoke with conviction. "While I understand and appreciate your sense of justice, you should instead trust me and my staff here at Beacon. I assure you that nothing gets past me in these walls. Everything and anything will be dealt with in due time."

Jaune's clouded eyes looked at the hand on his shoulder. It was solid and convincing with an almost infinite grace behind it. Tracking the pale hand and up from the green dress-shirt that hid under Professor Ozpin's dark suit jacket – Jaune could only stare with contracted pupils at the pure serenity of the older man's barely visible smile. Combined with the cascade of light shining behind him, it was almost as if he was some sort of ethereal being. Magical, even if magic didn't exist.

And Jaune didn't know if that comforted him or unnerved him further.

After some time, Ozpin pulled back into his chair and leant on his elbows – fingers interlocked again. "As long as you understand, Mister Arc. I will not hold you excessively accountable for Mister Winchester's injuries. One may even suggest he _deserved_ it, though I wonder what would go on in the mind of such a person." The silver-haired man seemed to find some comedy in that as he chuckled to himself.

"Should a headmaster of an academy really be talking like that?" Jaune managed to squeeze out. He didn't really know if that was rude, though Professor Ozpin really seemed to throw him on a loop in regards to his true intents and mannerisms – even for a person like Jaune who prided himself on being able to pick things like that up.

"Hardly," the other admitted. But with a wink, he added, "And that's why I'll hope that you keep this a secret between the two of us."

"Of course, sir." No longer bother to keep up the little appearance he had in the conversation, Jaune shut his eyes and let out the softest and quietest sigh he could manage. "Is that all, sir?"

Surprisingly, Ozpin resigned with a sigh of his own. "I do believe that we have discussed all that there was to discuss. You may leave with a clear conscience." Nodding his head with quiet thanks, Jaune made to get up – pushing back the chair behind him and beginning to walk back towards the elevator.

"Unless you are hiding something else from me, Mister Arc."

Excruciatingly slow, Jaune's body twisted back around. There was no obvious emotion on his face. A complete and perfect poker face, though it wasn't on purpose. It was because those words struck some sort of chord in his being – a chord that sounded out the notes of fear.

'This is my school'._ You can't hide anything. I know. I always know. _

Upon viewing Jaune's features, the weight behind his words seemed to vanish under his chuckle. "I'm joking of course. Take care, Mister Arc. Oh, and before you go, please be wary of any messages from unknown numbers. I've received a number of complaints from multiple students that there have been unknown callers attempting to contact them through text. You wouldn't have experienced such a thing, have you?"

How could he just switch like that? How? Vul's message flashed in his head briefly.

_"Yo. Little birdie told me that there's something going on in school. Would appreciate you doing a little work for me. I spy with my little eye, something gathering from shadows. Might not be available. Free to go to head."_

In other words, there's a spy in Beacon and he wanted Jaune to go to Ozpin about it if he managed to find any information. He had information – or, at least he thought he did - but…

Jaune shook his head, "No, sir. I haven't… I'll let my team know about it too."

Keeping silent, Ozpin nodded his own head with a smile – letting his silver locks bounce up and down slightly as the blond slipped into the elevator and pressed a button that was out of sight to him. The metal doors of the lift came to a shut, bringing the young man out of sight and leaving Ozpin to his own devices.

/-/

A breath of air found itself leaking out of the headmaster's mouth as he stood, grabbing his mug by the rim on his way. His steps echoed in the gear-filled office and Ozpin once more stared out into the distance of Beacon's courtyard.

He couldn't bring himself to take a sip as he sighed yet another time, shaking his head side to side. "My. My…" he muttered to himself before that mutter turned to a laugh. "He got me there." Finally bringing the hot liquid within the mug to his mouth, the headmaster sipped lightly.

Swallowing the bitter drink, Ozpin smiled slightly – still under a positive impression. _'I'll let my team know about it too.'_ So it would that the young Arc was suspicious of him from the very start. Qrow informed him that he hadn't let it slip he was under his employment, so for that young man to be weary of him even from when they had first conversed in the hallways was strange.

Ozpin could tell. It wasn't exactly hard.

So he would let his team know too, hm? If that was the case, he would find out what he said was a lie and the only reason that Jaune would announce he would do such a thing was almost as if he was sending a message to Ozpin himself. A sort of _'I know that you know'_ message – though, perhaps, an _'I'll find out if you know' _type of message was more appropriate.

It was a spontaneous lie and Ozpin had not set anything up for it in preparation of telling it. Despite living for centuries, Ozpin was still a flawed being. He was still a person. A person with incredible power and knowledge… though Jaune knew no better about his nature either way. The absence of knowledge on his part worked to his advantage.

Very clever _and_ very lucky it seemed. Oh, how Qrow would revel.

The pristine mug printed with the insignia of Vale was brought once more to his lips and Ozpin spoke into the container with far-away thought. "What would you think of the person your son has become, Nicholas?"

/-/

"Achoo!" Nicholas' head rocked forward, causing his unruly dark blonde locks to shake. Putting a fist to his nose, he rubbed absentmindedly. "Wow, the girls really must be worried, huh?" Truly, he was blessed to have such wonderful daughters – even if he wasn't always there for them.

There was a loud foghorn that sounded from the harbour, originating from a large freight ship that seemed to carry iron boxes upon iron boxes of what the old huntsman could only assume to be massive loads of dust and other such resources. Moving from the wall, Nicholas walked forward casually, eyes still fixated on the huge iron beast of a ship. It wasn't five-star accomodation, though Nicholas would hardly complain; he rarely did.

"Ah, there ya' are!" A burly looking man with a thick beard greeted, turning around to meet Nicholas. "Was wondering if you were still lurkin' around. So? Ya' still up for the job?"

"Of course," he replied. It was a simple enough exchange. Protection for transport. There were many dangers out at sea, nearly as many as there were on land, and many of them sometimes required a more delicate touch.

A huntsman's touch.

The sailor gestured further along the port harbour. "Well hop aboard, huntsman! We're leaving for Vale in a couple hours! Hope you're ready for a week's trip at sea, haha!"

He had already spent a couple days out in the Mistrali forests and swamps getting from the Arc lodge to here. Another week was nothing in the long-run of things.

Nicholas drew his gaze back up to the enormous mass of iron and steel that he would be travelling to the other side of the ocean with. Fixing the strap of his worn backpack across his shoulder, Nicholas nodded and began to make his way to the boarding area. He wasn't exactly arriving in style, but it was only a matter of time until he got there.

_Just you wait, Jaune. I'm coming for you._

/-/

The doors of the elevator came to a shut and Jaune slumped over, putting his back against the wall of the elevator and closing his eyes in what could only be described as pure relief.

_"I'll let them know about it too_… really, Jaune?" He groaned for a solid couple of seconds while covering his face with both of his hands. "It's like you were _trying_ to challenge the guy. What's your problem?" Jaune didn't even know _why _he was so apprehensive around Professor Ozpin. His arms drooped to the side as he sighed, more tired than relieved.

Ozpin was the headmaster of Beacon Academy. _The _Beacon Academy. The one his father went to. The one he always _wanted_ to go to. And now he was here.

So why was it that he couldn't bring himself to be at ease near Professor Ozpin?

It was a question that he couldn't answer. Especially with how tired he was now. Furthermore, was it just him or was the elevator trip going up long enough to take a nap in? How long had he even been talking with Ozpin for? Jaune wasn't so sure.

Sure he could check his scroll but, slowly, he felt his eyelids get heavier. The stuffiness of the lift instead felt warm to a comforting extent. Nobody would mind if he got a few winks in before he got to the bottom right? It wasn't as if he would be _inconveniencing_ anyone. Yeah… that sounded… like a great idea.

His thoughts eventually ceased as Jaune's head lolled to the side. The fight with Cardin had really worn him down and the following conversation with Professor Ozpin was anything but relaxing. It only really made sense that he was tired. And this elevator… it was such a long ride, closing his eyes for a while seemed like a harmless notion.

Which it was. Completely, in fact.

So Jaune napped for the next minute, or so. The only company in the dark space of his mind being his own thoughts and memories. But he, of all people, should have known how dangerous that was.

* * *

_"…Pillage…"_

His hand was bloody. But it wasn't his own. He stared at the palm, wincing at the warm liquid that continued to flow up and out of his grasp – dripping onto the infinitely black floor that he could not see. He could _hear_ the thick pitter-patter of the scarlet waterfall, yet couldn't lay his eyes on it when it hit the ground. There was only black. Was there ground? Was there blood?

_"…destroy…"_

There was blood. He could see the blood. But there was a gun, too. The gun that had been the murder weapon for one innocent sheep faunus. Trigger finger, smoking barrel, bloody bullet, scrambled brains, ripped flesh, flesh, flesh, flesh. Jaune wanted to rip his own flesh. Who was this person inside of his skin? Surrounded by a ring of fire, with his sword buried deep into the chest of that faunus – that brown-haired faunus – and feeling his body go limp.

Part of Jaune was glad that he died. Glad that it was over. Glad that he took his gun. The gun in his hand was the gun that was in his. The weapon that killed the innocent. That can kill the innocent. Will Jaune kill the innocent? Please, no. But will he have to kill the innocent? Is that what it would take to be a hero? A huntsman?

Amidst the growing red outline of the black that surrounded him, a hand reached out and placed itself on his shoulder. A disembodied hand connected to a disembodied arm that almost glowed in comparison to the darkness.

He felt it shake.

"Hey!" It was Vul. He couldn't see it; his bright blue eyes were still transfixed on the gun he had salvaged from that village maybe a month back but his mentor's crimson orbs were filled with concern despite their obvious determination.

Right. He was at a White Fang camp. His infiltration went bust and now they were going to have to gun their way in before they destroyed any evidence. That was the situation. Oh, shit – that was the situation. _No, Jaune, calm down! You got this. Don't worry too much._ Taking a deep breath, Jaune and steadied himself the best he could.

Ripping his gaze away from his new weapon and getting into a vaguely ready position. "Yeah, I got you," he said. "Two on the left. Fire and run." Just as the strategy suggested, you provided covering fire for yourself as you went in. Throws the opponent off and makes your approach safer. That was when you used your second weapon. For him, it was the sword in his main-hand; for Vul, it was switching to either his scythe or his greatsword.

Having received basic firearm training from Vul, hitting a stationary target while stationary himself wasn't anything new. But would Jaune even be able to hit a live target while he was running towards them? He guessed only time would tell.

"Alright, on three," Vul said before going into a strange silence under the hailstorm of bullets that were whizzing over their heads.

Okay, three. He could do three. Three was fine. It wasn't his favourite number but it was in his top… three. As Jaune attempted to ignore the racing pace of his heart, he shuffled over to the edge of the row of crates that provided cover and got himself ready to run. _Three. Wait until three, _he told himself.

…

If Vul would start counting that would be-

"Three!"

Jaune snapped his head backwards, almost twisting it completely, only to see that Vul and his stupid red cape was nowhere to be seen. His blue eyes flashed over the top of the cover line to see Vul making a mad dash forward, zig zagging between bullets and firing slugs at the red-masked White Fang members with dangerous accuracy. It was impressive.

If only he wasn't so confused. Eh, maybe absolutely fuming was the right term.

"VUL, YOU FUCKING ASSHOOOOLE!" Was the sound of Jaune's war cry as he vaulted over the cover and started to make his way over to the left – the area he had been told to cover.

Just as informed, there were two White Fang members that had their guns trekked onto Vul. Basically unaware of the other's presence, one of them could only gasp in pain and surprise as their gun was shot out of the palm of their hands. They tried to bring their head around but their face instead was whipped back in the opposite direction as the pommel of Jaune's crappy steel sword met their cheek. Thankfully, it seemed that they had Aura and the blow had only knocked them out without too seriously damaging them.

"Hey, what the-?" The second White Fang member twisted around at the sound of conflict and was left with his mouth agape before gathering himself and shouting over to where more were undoubtedly stationed. "There are two! We're getting attacking from both angles!" His voice was masculine and he appeared to growl before holstering his gun higher to aim at Jaune.

The person that he had just knocked out was about to hit the floor, but Jaune instinctively wrapped his sword-arm around their neck and held them in the crux of his shoulder as if he was taking a hostage. There was a second of hesitation from the other faunus - maybe some sort of insect kind? Jaune couldn't really tell when he was this high on adrenaline. But it was that second of hesitation that was needed for Jaune to take control.

His left hand snaked around the body of his hostage before taking aim at the stunned faunus. His eyes went down and Jaune's wrist followed swiftly before the finger pulled, setting forth a ripple of smoke and air as the bullet struck the White Fang member's shin – knocking it from underneath him and bringing the faunus to a knee.

"Gah!" He heaved, dropping his gun and proceeding to breathe heavily. Again, his Aura seemed to have naturally protected him – though he didn't expect to be hit there and likewise didn't actively reinforce it. A bullet was a bullet, despite Aura. "Fuck…"

Jaune carefully set down the person he had just used as a glorified meat shield and began to walk towards his disarmed opponent, running the back of his fist under his chin to wipe the growing amounts of sweat that was coalescing on his bare skin. The man he had just shot in the leg was still mumbling to himself in pain until he heard Jaune approach.

Suddenly, he looked up with ferocity and began to snarl. "You can't take all of us, when Adam gets back-" He was cut off thanks to the butt of Jaune's handgun; the sickening sound of flesh meeting the metal of his gun was oddly satisfying to boy

Body collapsing to the floor, something seemed to fall out of the pocket of his jacket. It looked to be a clip of sorts, a clip that had a bolt of electricity on the outside. Jaune quickly bent down and examined the size before getting rid of the clip within his handgun and stuffing it in his pocket – quickly replacing it with the new ammunition. With a click, the slide was pulled back effortlessly and Jaune turned his gun over as if to get a better look at it.

_Dust ammo, huh?_ Stuffing the weapon into his belt, Jaune admired his work and looked over to where Vul should have been-

Aaaand he was already gone. There were the bodies of three White Fang members and Jaune swore that they looked like they went cold. They weren't obviously, he could see the slight twitches and the rising and falling of their chests – but it went to show just how long ago Vul had finished fighting. Cerulean orbs came back to the two bodies around him, not dead but definitely not getting back up any time soon.

Here Jaune was thinking he was actually getting good. Maybe he _was _getting good and Vul was still leagues upon leagues ahead of him. Yeah, Jaune wanted to believe it was the second one.

"Watch out!" Someone yelled from the distance, followed by the rattle of gunfire.

"He's over here!" Another called out before their shouts divulged into cries of pain and gurgling.

Reaching over his shoulder, Jaune felt the solid surface of his tattered round shield and pulled it forth before kicking off in a sprint to where Vul undoubtedly went. Like he said, the main camp was visible and if he squinted hard enough – the blond was able to see a blur of red and silver blitz through the camp going from one target to another like some sort of heat-seeking missile.

But as Vul continued to decimate White Fang member after White Fang member, there was one that seemed to stand above the rest of the riff raff and cannon fodder that seemed to continuously throw themselves at the scythe-wielding drunkard Jaune was forced to call his teacher. Specifically, they stood multiple heads and shoulders above the rest – even Jaune, who was pretty above average in his height.

The hulking figure stomped through the crowds and they seemed to part for him as he raised both hands above his head with… wait, was that a _chainsaw?_ Who would use a weapon as impractical as that? Then again, Vul _did_ use a scythe a majority of the time.

Bringing his greatsword down across the chest of another masked opponent, it seemed that Vul was already acutely aware of the danger behind him as his cape swivelled around to meet his assailant head-on, bringing his weapon up to bring the massive man to a deadlock – but he didn't even get the chance to do even that.

Everyone's back was turned to him, focussed on the man who called himself Vul, so Jaune had no issue while he was running towards the scene of the crime. His leg enveloped itself in a golden-white swathe – evidence of regular Aura amplification – before he leapt of the same foot and gained some extreme height. His other boot came up on one of the backs of the White Fang members who refused to look at him, acting as a springboard so that Jaune could jump yet again.

But he wasn't getting any higher. He was getting faster. Jaune jumped _forward_ the second time – not _upward. _

With grit teeth, the blond reeled his left hand back and watched as both Vul and the massive beast of a man slowly turn their heads to witness the sight to come before the edge of Jaune's shield exploded in the face of the chainsaw-wielding madman, sending him tumbling across the floor a couple of metres in the distance. The yellow-ish dirt that covered the grounds of the camp kicked up clouds of dust from the sheer impact of his body and Jaune himself was forced to land in a roll that used his shoulder due to his angle and speed.

It appeared that the sheer stunt alone had stunned the White Fang members in the vicinity and Jaune could only stand up, panting heavily and taking a stance against the crowd – prompting Vul to do the same, granted in a much less serious manner as he smiled, "Not bad, kid. Not bad." They started to circle each other, back to back, watching the crowds of red-masked terrorists slowly regain their senses and bear scowls on their faces. Vul eventually ended up facing the easily seven-foot monster of a man who began to pick himself up slowly but steadily.

"I got this one," he said confidently. "I picked up a little doo-hickey from one of the Fangs while I was laying the beat-down. You might want to close your eyes," Vul warned before there was an audible click and his arm was drawn down only to shoot back up, tossing something into the sky.

Jaune, like basically everyone else who was watching him at the time, looked up to see what was thrown. The teen squinted, neck extending slightly as if to confirm that what exactly was thrown was a-

"Flashbang!" Someone within the crowd of the White Fang yelled. Having realised what it was well before the general warning, Jaune's head was already pulled to the side and his eyes were shut so tight that there were dark trenches of skin above the bridge of his nose, shielding himself for the sense-dulling flash and bang that such a device was known for.

But for the majority of the White Fang that were circling them, they were spared no such fate.

"It's go-time." Were the last words Jaune heard before he felt the presence behind him leap into action. It only really made sense that he did the same.

Jaune pumped raw energy into his legs and began to swing his arms back and forth while taking rapid strides towards the crowd of unsuspecting terrorists. Well, it was possible that they _were_ suspecting and just currently unable to do anything about it on account of being… blind and deaf at the moment. But there was a strange feeling in the teen's stomach as he reeled his shield-arm back and released a devastating backhand onto the nose of a White Fang member.

The large, flat surface of his shield against the crackling Aura of the target caused an oddly satisfying clang as the force reverberated across the material, but Jaune didn't linger on the feeling before spinning on a foot and shooting the pommel of his blade into the gut of another target behind him – forcing them to double over in pain. Within his being, the strange feeling never wavered. Instead, it began to grow as the rampaging blond brought both of his hands to the back of their head and pulled, bringing his knee up to meet the chin that he tore downward. At the last moment before impact, he let go and watched as the masked individual was instantly knocked out with spittle flying out of their mouth.

From one to another; the blond kicked the feet out of a White Fang member next to his previous target. Their body dropped to the floor and their head crashed against the dirt of their camp. Ripping his sword-arm to the side, Jaune finally brandished his blade and cut down another behind him with an upward-diagonal strike as he pivoted on the soles of the black leather boots that Vul had scavenged for him. Sent flying over to his side, the flicker of the Aura was pleasing to Jaune as they crashed down onto the ground, the same Aura flicker getting faster until it appeared to shatter into a million pieces.

_This was great._ That was the sentiment that Jaune was feeling in his stomach – an overwhelming sense of joy and _satisfaction._ He was thoroughly enjoying knocking the absolute shit out of every single dazed White Fang member he could get his hands on. Another felt the sting of his blade's iron while the next had the wind knocked out of them by an elbow. At one point, Jaune even moved his sword to his left hand just so that he could give a jaw-breaking hook to another target as he ducked under their weak attempt at grabbing him.

A good dozen seconds had passed and Jaune had already injured or incapacitated near a dozen different people, each one brought down with a dangerous smile on his face. Was this because of what they had done? All the innocent lives? Livelihoods? Because of Lin? Jaune liked to think so.

But as he continued to run riot, his attacks and movement had become linear and predictable. Slowly, the White Fang that remained regained their sight and sense of direction. And when they all began to open their eyes, the sight that they were greeted to could have been seen as quite pitiful to some. A blond boy with young features taking out his anger on anything and everything he could get his hands on

Nothing more than a kid having a tantrum.

Left fist pulled back, Jaune threw a straight punch expecting it to undoubtedly make its way to the face of yet another red-masked individual but he could only widen his eyes in surprise as his fist was caught in the palm of a large masked faunus that looked at him with anything but pity. Pitiful to some, outright disgusting to others.

"What- argh!" His hesitance cost him as the blond's arm was pulled back behind him, forcing him to wince at the restraining power it had on his joints. The sword held in his hand fell onto the floor with a clatter and Jaune was left gritting his teeth to bear with the pain.

What remained of the small crowd of White Fang were three members. Three terrorists. Their features didn't matter to Jaune, however, as he began to struggle against the tight grip on his arm and failing miserably. The hell was holding him? A gorilla faunus? And where the hell was Vul?! Why did he always seem to run off at times like this?

"Jeez…" One of the two in front of him mumbled, looking around at the waste that Jaune had laid before him. Bodies were littered across the floor like flies that had dropped out of the sky and the faunus that spoke seemed almost in awe. In actuality, however, he was more annoyed. "Can't believe that a kid did all… all _this_ to us."

"Yeah," the other concurred. Their voice was distinctly female, but that's all Jaune cared to describe about her.

"Hand me your gun, Trish," the first said – holding out their palm expectantly while keeping the narrow slits of his red-painted mask trained on the restrained Jaune.

Bringing her hand to a holster around her leg, the faunus named Trish handed what looked to be a gun not all to dissimilar to his own over by the barrel. When the weapon was out of her hands, she seemed to rub her arm nervously as she watched the other approach Jaune, pulling back the slide of her gun. "Are you sure we should kill him? He's just a kid, you know?"

"Are you kidding?" The first looked back around at Trish in disbelief and gestured at the bodies that lined the campgrounds. "He might be a kid, but he's a bloody dangerous one." Trish seemed to back off at his reasoning, though still appeared to dislike the idea. It didn't matter to the first faunus, however. Jaune froze as his eyes met the spiralling void within the barrel of the gun that was pointed at him. "You got Aura, so it's gonna take a few shots. But if you could do me a favour and turn it off, I think that'll save us both some time, kid."

"Wait-!" The faunus' finger pressed down on the trigger and Jaune could only whip his head to the side in anticipation of the pain to come.

Even if said pain never did.

_Click! Click, click! _It jammed? At a time like this? Jaune was probably the luckiest person on Remnant at the moment, or the faunus suddenly became the unluckiest. Either way, it meant that no bullet was sent between his eyes so Jaune couldn't care less whether which way it was.

Everyone seemed to look at the gun in shock.

Everyone, that is, except Jaune – who elbowed the untensed sides of the faunus behind him with his free arm to loosen the grip he had on his right arm and reach for his own gun that he kept within the straps of his belt. He didn't even need to check his aim as he thrust his arm forward and pulled the trigger, the round released making impact before suddenly erupting into bolts of electricity that coiled and wrapped against the faunus, bypassing their Aura entirely and frying them to an unconscious crisp. Spinning around on a heel, the butt of Jaune's good flew into the faunus behind him, knocking him to the floor in a second before Jaune completed his spin – grabbing his sword from the floor and dashing forward at the last faunus.

"No, wait, I-!" She yelled at Jaune but the shout was in vain as the blond brought his sword down in a back-handed slice. Her body fell onto the floor like all of the others and Jaune was left with the sound of his own heavy breathing and the thumping in his ears.

Yes, the sound of the thumping in his ears. The beat of his heart. It pumped to bring blood and adrenaline around to his body. The sheer effort it was exerting was enough to almost deafen Jaune at the moment, he could barely hear himself think.

If that was the case, why was there a quiet dripping sound? And why was his sword's edge coated in a thin layer of red?

Jaune widened his eyes; their bright blue colour slowly dampening, the pupils slowly hiding under a cloud of mist and smoke.

On the floor was the faunus called Trish with a deep gash that ran from her right shoulder all the way to her left hip. It tore through her uniform. It tore through her skin. Her flesh was ripped open and blood seemed to pour out from the dark red crevice in immeasurably gushes. Was this a dream? He had been having dreams like this lately, it only made sense right?

She reached upward and turned her head to look at Jaune – to look at the child who had cut her down to the floor. Her pants were airy and forced, as if not everything she was breathing in was actually getting to her lungs. The rise and fall of her chest was more pronounced. The undiscernible ears that protruded from above her mask began to fall flat on her head.

This wasn't a dream. It was almost as if he ran into the _only_ person without Aura in this entire camp. What the fuck was up with this luck? It was so bad he could start crying. Wait…

He was already crying. Jaune could feel the embrace of those tears as they tricked down his cheeks. He hadn't even processed the fact he was crying yet.

Without a second thought, Jaune threw his red-stained weapon to the side and came onto a knee, running his eyes over the fatally wounded woman and stumbling over his words. Pushing the hand that she reached out back down, he began to speak with tears running down his face. "I- no, I'm- wait, I didn't mean- please don't… I don't-" It was barely speech. Trish seemed to open her mouth as if she wanted to say something. For a second, the bright blue shine of his eyes returned as he leaned forward, "Yes?"

A splatter of blood erupted from a throat-tearing cough, covering the boy's face in warm scarlet liquid. He felt it get into his eye. He felt it run down his face in drops, commingling with the tears that fell from his eyes. He felt… colder, despite the fresh blood. Almost as if… he cared less about it than he did prior. Like his worries from before were childish and unwarranted.

Why did he feel like this?

It didn't take long until the faunus stopped breathing. The gurgling of the blood that pooled in the mouth may have been evidence of them drowning on their own fluids, though she could have similarly bled out from the wound that Jaune had delivered to her. Instead of dwelling next to the body, Jaune instead chose to stand up and grab his sword like none of it had ever happened in the first place as he strolled through the campsite looking for Vul.

There were almost double the amount of bodies on Vul's side of the camp than his own. Jaune even saw the huge tank of a man who wielded a chainsaw of all things lying motionless with his face flat on the hard dirt on the floor. Swiftly moving on, he doubted that any of these people were dead. Vul wasn't as careless as him. Jaune doubted he lost himself in… _joy_ often. Gods, what the fuck was wrong with him…

Jaune wandered into a tent, half randomly ending up there and half because it looked like it was important. By complete coincidence, there was Vul – hunched over a table and reading some sort of parchment that was sprawled all over the surface. His head turned at the sound of the tent flap being brushed aside.

"There you are," he said. "Was wonder how long you were going to keep me waiting." The huntsman paused, keeping his face scarily still as he spoke further. "That's… a lot of blood."

"It's not mine," Jaune responded coldly – almost angrily.

_"That's what I was afraid of." _The words were uttered so quietly, it almost appeared as though Vul was mocking Jaune for what he said.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Vul ended up conceding before turning back around and tapping his finger on the large centered table. "Come take a look at this."

While his skeptical look didn't quell any, Jaune did as he was told, even if it was to fulfil his own curiosity. "What is it?"

"A map." His finger met the paper again and trailed multiple red lines and pointed at marked locations as he continued to explain. "Shows supply routes, camp locations and sites that are to be attacked. Their camps might move, but we can maybe keep an eagle's eye on these routes and see where they change; they might lead us to their new locations. That's assuming the leader was here and knows that this was left here. These hit sites we might be able to stake out, too. Stake and interrogate kind of procedure," Vul mumbled to himself before taking out his old scroll and snapping a picture of the map.

The flash caused Jaune to wince and pull back slightly from the sudden light.

"I'm going to see if I can find a couple more things in this tent," Vul said offhandedly – already rummaging through more desks and reading through any papers he got his hands on. "Feel free to, uh, clean yourself up or whatever."

"Alright," Jaune said as he gave the map a final look. From the looks of the circle that was marked with a cross, it seemed that a multitude of other circles were at least hike's distance away. The camps were quite spread out from this main one, then. That was kind of annoying but he supposed they would all be on the move soon, like Vul said.

Jaune moved his dark and cloudy gaze from the map to the exit of the tent, staring at the back of Vul's tattered cape for an extra second before letting the flap fall back down as he left. He missed the firm yet concerned gaze of his mentor, however, as the old huntsman stared at the exit with a distant look – seemingly unsure as to how he should feel.

What could have been going on in that boy's head?

* * *

"You think that was the turning point?" Raven asked. Her white and red porcelain mask rested on the floor by the base of the tree she was leaning on while her arms were folded. She looked at her younger brother, who still had his eyes on the distant canopy above.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Qrow closed his eyes softly and tilted his head. "Who's to say? Straws and camel backs, I dunno." His eyelids lifted themselves as he continued to speak, staring at the openings in the blanket of leaves above him. "He never was quite the same after. Like a switch had been flipped, or something. Always more methodical. More meticulous. Thought about things a lot more." Qrow paused. "More cold. He got better, though – with time."

A few slow seconds passed by once more as Raven stared at her brother with an expression that couldn't be described before she withdrew her hardened gaze, choosing instead to stare at her feet as if concentrate. "Wasn't that the entire point? Didn't you want to teach him about crap like this – the killing and the death and the loss?"

Qrow shrugged again, thought it seemed to take more thought.

"Then why?" Her black locks ruffled themselves further as she shook her head. "Why would you go through all this effort if you were going to end up regretting it?" Qrow had never told her anything about the kid, not a single word of explanation – not even when she had scouted them camping out in Mistral. "_Why_, Qrow?"

The bright red hue of her eyes were vibrantly evident due to the dark bags. Neither feature wavered as she glared down her own brother for answers.

Collecting himself, Qrow brought his head down with a solemn smile. "Did I make it sound like that? Yikes." He shook his head. "I don't think I regret it, Ray. As for why…" The movement of his head was weak as he brought it back to the center. There was a breath, and then he answered. "Because I could, I guess."

"Because you could…-" Raven sighed, shaking her head before clicking her teeth in annoyance. "Tsk. More similar than you thought, huh? Idiot."

Qrow's hands shifted in his pockets as he clenched them. Crimson orbs soon found themselves staring upward yet again, though they did not linger on the canopy – instead looking beyond.

"Yeah…" he mumbled. "Guess I am."

Fate and Destiny were things he believed in. Maybe it was all the time he spent with Ozpin, though these strange and vague concepts were things that he had come to understand and put his trust in. Jaune was like him – born to fight. That much he knew from the moment he had seen him lying in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by half a dozen decomposing Grimm corpses. Fight the same battle, though? Qrow hoped so.

If, perhaps, he had never found that little brat and taken him under his wing – Qrow believed he would have ended up at his destination anyway. Taken a different path, sure, but he would have got where he wanted to go. But, for whatever reason at the time, he felt the need to dip his hand into that kid's story. Did he mess up? Maybe. But this was path he now walked down and there was no use in regretting it. Funny really, how he talked like this and yet the hipflask on his belt hung so free and full.

The Branwen twins stood together in a peaceful silence for a while longer. Despite everything, they were still birds of a feather. Blackbirds of a feather. Who knows when they would next stand at odds? For what it was, they enjoyed whatever peace that was found between them for as long as they could.

_Keep moving forward, ey, Sum?_

* * *

While Vul told him to wash up, there was a distinct lack of running water in the immediate area. Because of the fact, the blond ended up just walking around the camp and hoping that he'd find some sort of liquid that _wasn't_ blood so he could get the damn stuff off his face already.

The camp was barren. Well, it was one way to describe it at least; there was a distinct lack of movement save for the twitching and breathing of various White Fang members that were splayed on the dirt. They were still in Mistral, though there were less trees in the area – perhaps logged to make space for all the tents and crates that were similarly dotted around almost randomly.

Jaune's mouth was pressed into a thin line as he listened to the soft breeze that made his hair sway slightly. He turned his head left, and then to the right, to look for anything that could have helped him get the all of the drying blood off of him. There was nothing, so far. Coming up to a small stack of crates, of which the top one had its lid slightly ajar, Jaune leaned over it and brought his sword to hand to pry it open further. _Might as well check these thing. They could have something useful,_ he thought_. What do the White Fang even find useful? Bombs? Guns? Ammo? _Hopefully bottled water was on that list. The blood was getting itchy.

But as he pushed his leather-gloved hand forward to slide his worn iron blade into the gap, he heard a rustle from within the tent that crates were next to.

Silently pulling his weapon from within the crate, Jaune quickly fell into a half-crouch as the now dark blue colour of his eyes still managed to shine thanks to the blood that it surrounded the skin around them. The green flap of the tent was now in arms-reach and the movement of objects and fabric was more evident. Still almost silent, though easier to hear.

Did they miss someone? Did they hide or did they just happen to come back at the wrong time? Words from a face he couldn't remember echoed suddenly in his head. _"…When Adam gets back…" _They were the words that were thrown at him before being cut off by the end of his handgun. At the time, he didn't even process it back then but now the adrenaline was gone and a semblance of sense had returned itself to Jaune. Both him and Vul knew that this was some sort of base of operations… so was this 'Adam' here giving orders in the flesh?

Jaune hesitated pulling the flap back and thrusting his blade into whoever was inside.

Was the person who was in there… Adam _Taurus? _As in, leader of the new cell of White Fang – Adam Taurus? If that really the case, then would Jaune even stand a chance? How fast would he die? He could handle a couple of grunts but was still got caught off-guard and almost _died _if not for the gun jamming.

The trembling of Jaune's hand could be seen through the brown of his glove. What kind of person even was Adam Taurus? Jaune wasn't sure he even wanted to know; the very thought was causing his breathing to quicken and slowly go out of control. Over time it got louder and – soon enough - it was painfully obvious that someone was waiting outside the tent.

Then, suddenly, the rustling within the tent stopped and Jaune snapped his head up and forced himself to charge into the tent, pulling the flap back wildly as his body threw itself into the shelter. Within the tent, nobody was there, though it was the back and forth swaying of the opposite exit that told him that somebody _had _been_. _

"Hey!" His voice broke at the volume of his scream as he barrelled forward out of the other end and snapped his head left then right. It was then that he got a glimpse. Barely anything – barely even a second – but it was a glimpse.

A figure was darting over a tall stack of crates and on their way down. It was so high that Jaune thought it impossible that anyone could jump over something like that, even while amplifying their physical abilities with Aura. Their head was turned to the side slightly, responding to his call, and the mask was like any other red-patterned porcelain mask given to any old White Fang member. He could barely tell, but there were a pair of ears that emerged from their hair.

Silky, long black hair that fluttered like a breezy night sky.

It was all he could see before the same figure disappeared over the cover and dove deep into the forest. Jaune knew that trying to catch up to them would be a fruitless venture.

"Fuck!" A gruff voice yelled, followed by two subsequent blasts of a heavy-sounding gun. In turn, they were followed by a high pitched chink of metal until a blur of black and red went by Jaune so fast that he turned around a second late, instead coming to see Vul run forward with his weapon pushed forward and a violent scowl on his face. "Damn it…" he breathed out roughly before turning his head to see Jaune.

The blond could only stare at the huntsman, who brought his weapon down to his side before standing up straight. One was annoyed, the other was confused. But they were both breathing heavily as Vul turned around and started to walk back to where Jaune had first left him. Jaune followed.

Without a reason, the blood on his face didn't feel itchy anymore.

* * *

_Ding! _

The elevator's chime woke Jaune up, causing the silver cross earring that hung from his left ear to jingle in tandem as he flinched from the sound. It was annoyingly slow how the elevator doors opened, and the light that now seeped in from the outside caused Jaune to bring up his arm to shield himself from it.

"But then, I totally knew what she was going to do so I used Crescent Rose to…-" Ruby turned away from her one-sided conversation with Weiss and looked to wherever the noise came from. She tilted her head before her voice raised itself in response to who she saw. "Jaune? There you are!" Her silver eyes narrowed as she hummed. "Wait… where even is that?"

Weiss scoffed, one arm under the other. Pulling the scroll from her face she rotated her head and widened her eyes – as if surprised to see Jaune was actually there and that it wasn't a delusion of her cape-wearing partner.

She collected herself soon enough, bringing her icy-blue eyes back to her scroll as she began to flick on it with her thumb. "That's the elevator to Ozpin's office, Ruby. Beacon Tower? Ever heard of it?"

"Oh, yeah," Ruby mumbled, a finger to the side of her mouth. "I didn't know Beacon had elevators… that's so cool…"

Almost like it was on purpose, the sliding of the elevator doors resumed once more – only backwards this time as they began to close with Jaune still inside of them. Jaune rushed forward, aiming to make it so that the sensors noticed that there was someone between them and _not_ do that. Though, it seems he wasn't the only other one with that idea.

"Hey, watch out-! Oof!" Similarly, the small scythe-swinging girl ran towards the elevator to get between the doors but found herself caught by Jaune as she basically slammed her body into his without knowing it. Wait, _caught?_

Instead of being bounced back because of her speed, she was _caught. _Like, in his arms _caught._ Like, her face was buried in the leather of his torso-plate _caught._

Ruby pried her eyes open and finally realised what was going on before exploding in a burst of petals and returning by Weiss' side. Her partner was looking on at the display with a quirked eyebrow, like she couldn't believe what was going on.

With a very forced laugh, the small girl started to rub the back of her head and dart her eyes around willy-nilly, unable to focus on anything. "Ahaha! Well, we're headed back to our room to change and stuff since combat class is over. Feel free to come with! Or… maybe don't because we're changing…" A tired half-sigh-half-chuckle escaped from Ruby's mouth as she exaggeratedly marched down the hallway with a facepalming Weiss on her tail.

Now, Jaune (who was by all means still half-asleep) had yet to comprehend what exactly just happened. In due time, he would remember and hate himself for it though - if there was anything that snapped him out of his dreamlike stupor, in which he had yet to even say a word to any of his team, it was the glimpse he caught.

Just a glimpse. Glowing amber eyes, a beautifully tied pitch-black ribbon and a set of hair that flowed and flickered behind like the night.

Following her two teammates swiftly was Blake, who had her eyes steadfastly kept on her book until she saw her partner hanging out of the elevator with a strange look on his face. "…You coming?"

Jaune blinked before stepping out while saying, "Yeah, I…- Yeah." He continued to walk forward, following the sound of Ruby's stomps and Weiss' clacking of heels.

All while trying to ignore the strange feeling in the back of his head.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**There were a lot of perspective and time shifts in this chapter. Some of them I could have done without (like the Nicholas ones) but I wanted to give the reader some updates on the character and where he currently was at in relation to the present. Some people might not like this interpretation of Qrow and Raven's relationship but it's something that I find interesting myself. **

**Honestly, I don't think that I could ever hate my brother. Even if he ditched his hypothetical wife who also happened to be my hypothetical best friend with my hypothetical niece. Even if it concerned the fate of the entire world and he just refused to do anything about it, I don't think I could really ever hate him for it. That was the reason I wasn't exactly comfortable with having Qrow be aggressive or inflammatory – even in a passive way – because I can't relate to it.**

**Siblings are siblings and I'm sure that Qrow and Raven have been through a lot of shit together being raised in the Branwen Tribe. And as I've said off-handedly before, Raven has the inability to cut off those connections with others due to her Semblance. No matter what, she can't get rid of them just like she can't get rid of the ability to create a portal once she's established a bond. **

**Though that's still sort of headcanon.**

**I won't comment much on Jaune and Qrow's White Fang camp raid, though I will mention that the faunus from 2-3 chapters ago in Jaune's nightmare who killed that sheep faunus did tip them off about it if I wasn't clear.**

**This chapter was pretty fun to write in all honesty. Maybe it got a little sloppy in the end, but this was the culmination of a single writing session since the ideas and lines just kept flowing for dialogue. I hope you enjoyed.**

**And as always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	16. Chapter 16: Pit, Pat, Click, Clack

**Author's Notes:**

**So we hit 100 reviews! 100 by the time of last chapter but since I'm proofing this at the time of reaching the milestone, I might as well put my thoughts here.**

**First of all, thank you is the least I can say. To think that in 100 separate instances, people have put their thoughts onto their keyboard and gave me the time of day to see these thoughts about my writing is sort of incredible. With this being my first real hard attempt at a narrative, it's encouraging to know that people do actually care about the interactions I want to write between pre-existing characters. They find the bits I want to write as 'cool' as actually cool, 'cute' as actually cute and 'funny' as actually funny.**

**Again, my thanks isn't enough for all the people who read my work and are genuinely interested in my take of this universe and what I want to build/add to the RWBY fanfic community. **

**With all the mushy and icky stuff out of the way, we'll get to a considerably more chill chapter in comparison to Jaune's past memories and mind games with Ozpin. **

**Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Sat on his bottom bunk bed with his hands clasped together and looking down onto his boots was Jaune Arc – appearing somewhat nervous with his stock stillness._ I'm here because they said I could come back with them,_ he told himself. _Plus, this is technically my room too; I'm entitled to be in here whenever I want anyway. There's no problem at all!_

But, the thing was, there was a problem. And the problem was pretty evident from the sound of water hitting the plastic of the bathtub as it came down from the showerhead above.

Jaune hated that he managed to describe it like that. It was almost as if he was there himself.

Which he was _not_ and definitely did not want to be. Not at all. There were co-ed dormitories, sure – that was fine. The blond felt as though he could get through and behind that idea without too many problems. He was used to sleeping in the same room as girls, thanks to his sisters, and was thoroughly desensitised to the idea. You would be too if Coral said she was going to crash in your room that night because she had a falling out with Saffron. Her snoring was worse than a Ursa Major's roar while it was trying to maul your face off from on top you.

Co-ed dorms, fine. But then _showers_ in those dorm rooms? Was Ozpin trying to start something? Was this even legal? The answer was obviously yes, though Jaune supposed that Beacon acted with independence from the law of Vale either way as two different governing bodies, but that didn't really help him any.

To take his mind off things, he did find out that Ozpin was lying about those so-called 'suspicious messages from unknown numbers' after asking Weiss and Ruby about their own contacts. So Ozpin knew about Vul messaging him? Well, he knew that _someone_ messaged him at least and wanted the boy to out a possible spy within his student body. Jaune supposed that another student doing the deed would have been easier but he couldn't help but question that man's agenda within all of this.

"You better not be thinking of anything," he heard Weiss say from the bottom bunk opposite – almost as if she was reading his mind's prior thoughts.

"I- I'm _not_ thinking of anything," Jaune felt the need to emphasise. It was also true.

For the most part.

He looked up to see Weiss combing her hair, free from her ponytail as it had been all day thanks to Ren's dare from yesterday. She was clad in her nightgown as the day was coming to a close and their activities from today had their toll on them. Drawing his eyes back down, the blond was still in his combat-wear and waiting for his own turn in the shower.

The shower that Blake getting wet in right- no! He wasn't thinking of anything. He was also not lying. At all.

"I hope you realise saying that makes things so much worse…" mumbled Jaune, only for him to hear the repeated brushstrokes from across the room stop entirely as Weiss stared at him with an expression of cold disgust. "What?"

"Barbarian."

Her words were as painful as her glare and Jaune had nothing to say in retort as the icy heiress went back to combing her snowy locks. Honestly, it was frightening how much she seemed to mean the words she was saying and it sort of hurt the boy on the inside.

While it may seem inconceivable to some, Jaune was still a male teenager despite everything. Seventeen years old! Hello? Puberty was a thing. Not like Weiss seemed to care, of course, as she continued to sneak sharp glances in his direction to make sure he hadn't moved from his stationary position.

Ruby popped down from her top-bunk and leaned over the edge as she smiled. "Don't mind Weiss, Jaune – she's just a big dumb-dumb." The 'big dumb-dumb' seemed to disagree as she let out a surprised and offended scoff, but the girl continued either way. "By the way, I kinda have a question to ask…"

Thankful for the change in topic, Jaune was more than happy to provide. Looking back up at Ruby, she was similarly clad in her pajamas and facemask with her crimson cloak still attached around her shoulders. Boy, she sure seemed to love that thing. While he loved Crocea Mors, he wasn't about to hold it while sleeping or bring it into the shower- no! No shower thoughts.

It was a rabbit hole he literally just dragged himself out of and Jaune didn't want to cannonball back into any time soon.

"Yeah?" He met Ruby's inquisitive silver gaze and spoke. "Shoot, Ruby."

"It's about your weapon - hup!" She furthered her question slightly before jumping off of her top bunk and landing with her arms spread wide. Weiss wasn't a fan of the acrobatic display it seemed as she shrunk slightly.

Crocea Mors? Jaune turned his head to what was laid out beside him. While he said he wouldn't be taking Crocea Mors to bed with him, there the legacy weapon was – peacefully resting atop the fabric of his duvet and glinting despite the lack of light over her.

_Her. _

Really, he had only ever noticed it recently when Ruby called her weapon a 'him'. Jaune thought it was stupid, though she was quick to point out that he did much the same to Crocea Mors. Had Vul never made fun of him for it after they had retrieved her from that village wreckage?

Thinking back on it, Jaune wondered if his father had ever called Crocea Mors a 'her' too as he brought his eyes back to Ruby with a hum. "What about it?"

"Weeeeeeell…" She came to sit on the other side of the bed and Jaune made room for her as she twisted her torso to lay a hand on the sheathed weapon. It was strange, but Jaune felt comfortable with the action. The sitting next to him or the touching Crocea Mors, you might have asked? He wasn't sure. "There was this weird purple glow from your arm, and then your shield came _zooming _back to your arm – like _vwooom!"_ Her hands came back from Crocea Mors and her fingers splayed out as if imitating some sort of explosion.

Giggling, she faced Jaune and tilted her head. "Was that all dust?"

"Wow, you got it," Jaune said – impressed. "Hold on for a sec."

He pulled the weapon gently from the middle of the bed behind them and softly placed it into his lap. Running his hand across the sheathe, Jaune eventually put a hand on the royal-blue hilt and pulled the blade free with a quiet hiss of metal and propped it up to the side. With Crocea Mors' sword out of the way, Jaune felt the flow of Aura run down his arm and into his hand. Sure enough, the sheathe reacted accordingly and shifted into the shield – proudly displaying the Arc family crest on the outward surface.

Ruby was in awe. "Woah…"

Not really knowing what had her so starry-eyed, Jaune slowly turned his head to look at the shocked girl beside him as she scooched up closer to get a better look. It wasn't exactly a bad feeling.

"…What?" Either way, he was still confused. At this point, even Weiss was relieving him of her spiked gaze and instead sending an interested glance in his direction.

"You didn't even press a button," Ruby explained quietly. "It just… _happened,_ you know?"

Oh, yeah. That wasn't normal, was it? Most weapons could conduct Aura, though huntsmen still needed to manually shift between forms through switches and the like.

The reaction Crocea Mors had wasn't due to his Semblance or anything, that was just how it reacted when it came into contact with Jaune's Aura. If he wanted to turn her sheathe into a shield, his soul would will it and the weapon would comply. Really, it was instinct and Jaune sometimes forgot that other people had to press and pull stuff for their weapons to transform.

At the same time, Jaune still had to press a single button on his grappling hook and his gun to change them from their holstered box-like forms – but, at this point, that was instinct too.

"Oh," he replied eloquently before drawing his dark-blue gaze back to the shield. Answering the unspoken question honestly, he replied, "Well, I don't really know how it works… it's just how she's always been I guess."

"Weird…" Ruby said under the guise of a light breath. She breathed in, only for the sound to slowly grow in volume along with the size of her eyes. "Wait a second – your sheathe is a shield?! That's so _cool,_ why did you never tell me?!"

The only response Jaune could muster was the widening of his own eyes. That was right, he hadn't really told anyone about the shifting capability of his sheathe. It was all in an effort to retain a semblance of secrecy so he would have the upper-hand against people in the long run. Jaune thought back on it and eventually came to realise that such a task would have been impossible to maintain for long if he was going to study here for four entire years and part of him was sort of glad that the adrenaline clouded his logic in the moment of his and Cardin's fight.

With a laugh, the blond turned his head in an effort to hide his telling eyes. "I guess it just slipped my mind, you know?"

Jaune could hardly tell her it was because he sort of didn't really fully trust Ruby at the time. While they remained steadfast friends and she was now his team leader, Jaune was still ever the sceptic at times.

"That's not fair," Ruby pouted as she kicked the carpet beneath them idly. "I told you about Crescent Rose's sniper function…"

Yikes. Yeah, Ruby would be the one to make a bigger deal out of it than anyone else – what with her obsession with different types of weapons.

A cringe found its way onto his face at Ruby's display of little sister like disappointment in him, though Jaune did his best to ignore it and turned the shield upside-down so that the inside was facing upward and his family crest was facing his lap. Thankfully, Ruby got over her sulking quick and was back to examining the contents of Crocea Mors over his shoulder.

The metal was cool in his hands – cool to a relaxing extent – and it was like there was an air of the similar temperature.

Moving her finger to point at something, Ruby asked, "Is that-?"

"Dust," Jaune finished as he brought his eyes onto the small compartment hidden within the back of his shield as a small vial filled with a ground violet substance was slid comfortable into it at a horizontal angle. "Gravity dust."

The easy-to-captivate-when-it-came-to-weapons Ruby moved her head closer to the shield itself, as if she thought that getting as close as she could to the very small and not-at-all complex addition to his weapon would help her understanding of it. "But, isn't that stuff like _super_ expensive? Are you rich or something?"

Yes. It was. His eyes came out of his sockets when he first saw the price of the stuff when he was just browsing the wares of a Mistrali village dust store. Most frontier settlements didn't have the privilege that dust offered, though this one did – and boy was that a wakeup call. _How _much lien for a vial of the stuff? One hundred? No, thanks; that was the kind of money for a brand-new, off-the-shelf, full-release videogame.

Maybe the fact that all the dust he ever used was stolen from the White Fang _somewhat_ messed with his idea of money and the whole _paying for stuff_ thing that everyone else did. He once asked Vul if it was alright to even take all of the stuff and he replied with a disinterested shrug, _'Who else is gonna use it?'_ He said before gesturing to the unconscious White Fang members around him.

_'Not them, that's for sure.'_

"Yeah…" he replied. "We'll go with that." Moving swiftly on, Jaune stood up while clearing his throat and placed the shield face-down on the other side of the room before taking a few steps back until his back was against a door. He held his left arm bracer up – the one that had the magnetic holster on the outside of his forearm – and twisted it around. "There's another vial of the stuff in here. Watch."

Unlike weapons that were usually made of steel and iron, dust seemed to have a natural reaction to Aura. Really, nobody should have been surprised when he extended his arm with his hand on the shoulder to help with the recoil and the purple glow started to emanate once more.

But that didn't stop Ruby from squealing in excitement as the shield came shooting back towards Jaune.

The flow of his Aura was invisible to all, though the subsequent purple glow shined brightly and illuminated the room. A similar light emitted from Crocea Mors a few metres away and she began to shake slightly on the carpet. Faster and faster the shaking grew until the shield lifted off the ground and was pulled back to Jaune's left arm with a clang of metal and a click of the holster. His arm bucked back slightly, though Jaune's other hand helped to dampen the impact.

He released a soft breath with his eyes closed. Turning to Ruby, Jaune opened them with an awkward yet small smile. "Something like that, anyway."

In truth, Vul had suggested this to him – like most with most of the things that Jaune used/practised/had at his disposal. It was actually based on one of his own huntress idols, as weird as that may have sounded. He forgot the name but she used gravity dust in a similar way to toss away and retrieve her weapons at a whim.

"Omigosh, that's so cool-!" Ruby pushed herself off of his bed with such excitement that her forehead crashed into the wooden bedframe of the bunk above her. "Errgh…" She doubled over slightly and put her hands onto her forehead to soothe herself as she started to mumble.

Genuinely worried, Jaune took a step towards her and reached an arm out hesitantly. "Hey, are you okay-?" But then let out an 'urk' of surprise as she instead made her mumblings louder and took five steps towards Jaune, trying to get a better look at the holstered shield.

"The uses of that are, like, endless! That's why you just threw your sheathe around willy-nilly at the start of the fight, it's 'cause you could have just gotten it back whenever you wanted – like at the end to protect yourself from that explosion!"

Well, he also did have a firing mechanism in the bracer at the same time for impaling though he neglected using that in the bout so that anyone who was specifically watching didn't know that was a part of his arsenal. A man had to keep _some _secrets, you know? Especially when there was apparently a White Fang spy around.

"Uh," Jaune chuckled. The shine in Ruby's eyes was almost blinding and he turned his head to the side slightly to avoid it. "Yeah…"

"Oh, oh, oh!" The small girl was almost hopping on the spot with a finger up, wanting to add something. "By the way, what was that massive explosion of light when Cardin hit you? It was _soooo_ bright, I couldn't even see for a couple seconds after it!"

The question made him open his mouth, only for words not to come out.

_'That was my Semblance,' _he was about to say. Though, the boy pondered if that was even a good idea.

Should he tell them about his Semblance? His head, the part of him that Vul had drilled logic and reason into for his own survival, told him the answer was a resounding _no._ Though, when his own cloudy blue eyes darted to Ruby's shining silver, part of him just wanted to let the beans spill. Man, he probably looked stupid with his mouth wide-open like some sort of fish if Weiss' look was anything to go by but, at the same time, she looked just as interested as Ruby.

Wasn't this the same ordeal with his shield? If that was the case, wouldn't it just be better to get it all out of the way? They were… teammates, right? But then, why did he still hesitate so much?

"I…-"

From behind him, the door that he had his back against pushed up against him and the knob dug into his side. The room fell into silence as Jaune turned around to see Blake's head peeking out – the black bow atop her head still attached as her golden irises inspected what exactly was blocking her from getting out of the bathroom.

"Sorry…" she said slowly. "But do you mind?"

Jaune fumbled to get out of the way and awkwardly muttered an apology as the white door leading to the bathroom was pushed outward further, revealing Blake in a plain black t-shirt and shorts that came to the middle of her thighs – leaving plenty of skin out for the world to see. Not like Jaune was looking or anything. Even so, he hoped that his partner wasn't paying attention to where his gaze was as she climbed up to her bed with a towel around her shoulders.

"…Jaune?" A small voice called from in front of him.

"What-? who-? where-? I wasn't looking."

"Looking?" Ruby seemed confused, tilting her head again – though with more thought as if she was trying to figure something out. "Looking where?"

He made to speak, though ended up just drawing a sharp breath and pushing his mouth into a thin line as he waddled over to his wardrobe and pulled out his own pajamas. Just a black Pumpkin Pete's shirt and yellow-striped shorts of his own, nothing special. Standing up, he started to make was way into the bathroom to finally take a shower and get out of his sweaty combat clothes.

"Jaune? Looking at what? Jaune?"

And Jaune kept on walking until he felt the hot and humid air of the bathroom on his skin before shutting the door.

Once again, the room was left silent and the cape-wearing girl was stood in front of the door that was shut on her with only a single question on his mind. "But what was he looking at…?"

Weiss sighed from her own bed. "Barbarian…"

/-/

He wasn't saying that the cold water felt amazing, but god _damn_ was the cold water amazing. It really numbed the pain of smashing his forehead into the wall in front of him.

Jaune reeled back his head and tilted face upwards so that more liquid would run down his features, only for him to slam his head into the solid wall of clay that decorated the pristine bathroom. Either way, his Aura was still activated and the pain wasn't immense but Jaune felt the need to let it down for _just_ a second so that he could try and teach himself some self-control.

Like it was always said, pain was the best teacher.

"I want to die…" Were Jaune's motivating words as he slumped in the shower, letting the cold water flow down his bare back.

Seriously, Jaune thought he was prepared for the co-ed life. Psyche! Guess he wasn't! No amount of female siblings could have ever prepared him for this. Yeah, he had taken baths with his sisters before, but that was when they were kids and it wasn't the same because they were family. When Jaune opened his eyes and looked down into the drain, his mind slowly started to drift off and wonder if he was stood in the same place as Blake as she scrubbed herself down-

"GAAAAAH!"

From the mere thought alone, the sheer amount of effort it took to take himself away from that dark, dark path cost him his footing as the blond slipped in the shower and fell flat on his ass; the water directly pushing his bangs down so that he couldn't even see where he was after the tumble. Left panting to himself, Jaune pushed the bangs up and over his face and slicked the hair back – only for a few to come back forward in retaliation.

"…Jaune?" A worried voice came after a knock on the door and he felt the need to snap his head in the direction of the entrance despite the shower curtain still being pulled forward. "Are… are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah! Yeah… it was… just a spider. A really big one."

It was Ruby's voice, he could tell. If not at first because of the intonation, then it surely was due to her seemingly omnipresent willingness to lend a hand.

"Oh, do you need help with-"

"No! I mean… No, I got it." _Nice recovery, me. Real smooth. _"Thanks." He was still in the shower for god sake – how could she even ask that? She couldn't be _that_ dense, surely. Maybe she just didn't care either way? Jaune didn't want to think about it too much.

There were a few seconds that passed until Ruby finally responded. "If you're sure…" He was very sure, don't worry. Jaune was the surest he had ever been in his life.

The following repeated steps of something leaving the front of the door was a relief, one that enticed a long sigh from Jaune as he picked himself up from the basin of the bathtub and reached for the shower gel on the rack of bathroom-necessities to the side. There were an assortment of different bottles with varying labels, though he picked the plainest one he could find.

"Scent of Falling Sakura?" He mumbled to himself, holding the purely black bottle with both hands and reading the white text that was elegantly printed onto the surface. "What the hell is a _'sakura'?" _In the end Jaune shrugged and squeezed some of the substance onto his palms before rubbing it into his hands and getting started with cleaning himself.

_Huh. Whatever a 'sakura' is, it smells pretty damn good. _As he pushed the gel into his skin, his hands came across his torso and started to lather himself, only to get to the shoulder and stare at the pinkish colouration that differed from the rest of his complexion.

A scar.

It wasn't anything new to look at, though Jaune just kept his eyes on the scar as he idly continued to wash himself.

It wasn't all too big, though it went deep. The memory of it wasn't too foreign to him either. It had been, what? Only four or five months since he got it? There was a strange recollection in Jaune's eyes as he furrowed his brows. The cold water on his skin made its way to his head and slowly matted down Jaune's slicked-back blonde locks while he thought. Hiding his eyes from the world, he tried his best to remember the day.

The veil of night. The smell of distant ash in the air. Vaguely familiar houses torn down at the foundations.

There was… screeching. Unholy screeching, nothing like a regular Grimm. Fog that suffocated and blinded for miles, hot like steam. Blood, too. There was a lot of blood. It seeped into his hoodie, his armour, his eyes – but… most of it didn't belong to him. A… a flash of light. Crocea Mors was there. And… and…

_'Get out of the way!'_

Jaune's eyes broke open and he started to breathe heavily as if exhausted. The palm of his hand felt the cool tiles of the bathroom wall as he doubled over at the hip and put his other hand across one of his eyes in reflex. A pounding in his skull, Jaune hissed as the shower gel got into his eye and forced him to try wash it out instead of dealing with the ensuing headache.

There was a curse under his breath as Jaune confusedly reached for the shampoo, cursing again as the shaking of his hand knocked over the rows of plastic bottles at the shower-side. Almost as if scared of what they might see, his bloodshot dark-blue eyes that stared at the back of his hand slowly looked over his palm as he turned it around. Jaune was trembling. Was he… still afraid? It didn't feel like fear… or maybe it was; he didn't know right now. It felt like he was missing something – something that Jaune couldn't physically put thought to. What was he thinking about again?

Suddenly, Jaune could no longer remember. He could remember nothing about the incident, as if the entire scene had been separated from his conscious memory and hidden beneath layers upon layers of unbreakable steel floors.

_When the time is right._

His head shot back up and went from left to right. "Who-?"

There was another knock at the door, one that seemed more urgent. "Jaune…? Are you really okay?"

_No._ _Help me. I don't know what's happening._ "…Yes."

It was almost pitiable how hesitant Ruby sounded in asking. Because of course it was Ruby on the other side. Of course she would be the first one to come to another's aid again. "Is… is it the spider again?"

"…"

"Jaune?"

"…Yes."

"…Alright."

"…"

There was a pang in Jaune's heart at the shuffling of his new friend's feet got quieter and quieter. She sounded so defeated, and hardly like she believed a word he was saying at this point. How useless must she have felt? With such a strong will to help another, what would it feel like to be unable to act upon it? To chain down that part of yourself? Would Ruby learn, like him, that you would never be able to help everyone? To _save_ everyone?

Gods, was he crying? Why? This made no sense. Why couldn't he remember? Remember what?

Jaune slowly forwarded his forehead back on to the wall, though this time softly, as he held his scarred shoulder and let the tears that escaped from his reddened eyes join with the cold water that rained onto him from above. It was all too sudden. Why now? Because he tried to remember? Who was talking to him? What 'time'?

It was the scent of sakura petals that surrounded this broken and bewildered boy under the cold rain of the water above him.

/-/

Her sigh was tired and thoughtful and her body flopped onto her bed. "Ugh…"

"Ruby, get off my bed." Well, it wasn't actually _her _bed but it's not like that should have mattered. They were partners, but more importantly _friends._ What kind of friends didn't share? Bad ones, that's what. And Weiss was her best friend so that meant they shared stuff times two!

"Ruby," Weiss hissed more thoroughly with grit teeth. "Get _off_ my bed."

Or, maybe not. That was fine, they could work up to that point and Beacon was only just starting after all. But before she followed the wishes of her sort-of-annoying but at the same time adorably-cold partner, Ruby's words came out muffled as she spoke into the soft material of the mattress. "Do you think Jaune's fine in there?"

Cue the unscrupulous look and a sneer. Ruby didn't need to see it to know it was there at this point; it was a very Weiss-like thing to respond with. "He's taking a shower; how hard can that be? I'm sure that even a guy like him can handle it."

"A guy like him?" Her face turned around so that her cheek was pushed up against the sheets as she looked to Weiss. "What do you mean by that?" Instead of an answer, she was met with a pillow to the face not to dissimilar to Ruby's own plan of attack when Yang was in her 'older sister mode', as she like to call it.

"Why must you always be so _infuriating?_ Get off my bed already, you dimwit!"

And even if she knew Weiss' answer was going to be something along those lines, it didn't stop Ruby's dramatic sigh as she slid off the bed at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Ugh, fine…"

She continued to mumble under her breath about a 'dumb-dumb' and pulled herself up to her own rope-suspended bunk bed as she sunk into the mass of plushies and teddies that she had managed to bring in from her home in Patch.

There was no way she was imagining it. Something was up with Jaune ever since they had that sleepover in Team PYRN's room. As she reached over into the pile of plushies and pillows and grabbed whatever she could get her hands on, Ruby held it tight to her chest as she continued to think. Actually, if she was really thinking about it, Blake seemed kind of off too. She was being a lot more… _Blake _than usual.

Her head rocked back and forth as she shook it wildly. _Use your words, Ruby! If Weiss can do it, so can you!_

The shaking of her head ceased and there was a narrowing of her silver eyes while she tried to explain to herself more… _eloquently._ Blake was being kinda… shifty. Was that rude to say? Ruby hoped not. Blake had this cool mysterious air around her when they first met each other and it's not like that disappeared or anything, though there was some other element to it now. It might have made her a little weird for noticing but Ruby had noticed her black-haired teammate keeping an eye on Jaune.

There was that time during breakfast earlier today as well as her attention being high during Jaune's fight – those glowing amber eyes almost vicious as they watched Jaune's movements with the utmost rapture… wait. And there was also just a few minutes ago when Blake just came out of the shower and Jaune was just staring at her; Ruby wasn't _stupid_ or anything and Jaune was still a boy, she understood that much… wait. There was no way.

Could Blake and Jaune have _liked_ each other?

Ruby shook her head frantically yet again, now with a slight tint to her cheeks. Her blinks were rapid and her mind was racing.

Well, maybe Blake liked Jaune and Jaune already knew about it and that's why things were so awkward between them! Oh gods, it was all coming together and Ruby had no idea what to do about it! Whipping her head towards the other top bunk on the other side of the room, Blake had a book in her hands but she was doing anything other than reading it. Instead, her eyes were on the bathroom door and the expression on her face was super focussed for some reason. The sight didn't help Ruby's growing squeak.

What on Remnant was she thinking about right now?!

It's not like it was any of her business or anything. If they were going to have some sort of relationship, that would be completely fine! Yup, yup – no problems here! It kind of came out of nowhere and made her question what exactly happened between the two of them to get this way but they made a really sweet couple, Ruby thought. They both were super cool and had an aura of mystery around them so it only made sense, right? There was a weird pulling from the side of her chest under the warmth of the fluffy dog-shaped pillow she held in her arms, but it went ignored as Ruby continued to rant in her own head.

_I mean,_ she thought at breakneck speeds. _Maybe that whole Truth or Dare thing between them was a cover up so that nobody would suspect them! _Did that make sense? Gah! Someone help her, she had no idea what was going on!

_Creeeek._ That was the sound of the bathroom door opening as Jaune emerged from the brightly lit room with his mop of blond hair still wet with water despite the towel draped on his head. Clad in that cute bunny t-shirt of his and his black and yellow striped shorts, he had the clothes he wore for Miss Goodwitch's class held under his arm as he seemed to stumble out of the bathroom with no steam following him. Did he have a cold shower? Her dad did used to say that it was good after a workout, she supposed. Jaune's eyes were downcast, almost sad looking, before he looked up to meet Blake's gaze. Quite promptly, their eyes widened at the same time before turning their heads away.

Now, imagine what that looked like to Ruby – considering the thoughts that were going through her mind at the moment.

She began to cough and hack, shooting up in her bed and clutching her throat and subsequently drew the attention of every single other party in the room. Weiss even poked her head out from the bed beneath her to look up at Ruby, who could only look between the sets of prying eyes and rub the back of her head awkwardly with a smile and a dry laugh. Eventually, the rest of her team lost interest as she fell back into her mountain of soft pillows, even if they weren't able to see the desperation in her eyes as she stared at the pink veil that was draped over her bed for decoration.

It was so obvious! How has nobody else put this together yet?!

While Ruby said that it wasn't any of her business, Jaune and Blake were still part of Team RASB – _her_ team. They were having some icky couple falling out thing right now and that's why they've been acting so weird lately. That was the story that formed inside of Ruby's head and she sought to fix it. She didn't even question the validity of her maybe way out of proportion claims, instead firing the canisters within her brain to come to a solution.

For wherever there was people in need, Ruby would be there. It was the number one way to make sure she was on her way to becoming one of the best huntresses Remnant had ever seen.

"Okay, Ruby, you got this…" As she mumbled to herself, the cape-wearing girl reached under her pillow with her tongue poking out of her mouth in an effort to find a certain device. "Aha!" Victoriously, she held her scroll before her and looked upon it in triumph. Clearing her throat, Ruby raised her arm and called out to her teammate below.

"Hey guys, you wanna play a game?"

Almost immediately, Ruby's mouth came to a grimace as she noticed the slight jerking of Jaune's features while he was moving Crocea Mors to rest by the bedside drawer. And, maybe by complete coincidence (though probably not), Blake had a similar reaction with the smallest widening of her eyes.

"Um, I – uh… a _video _game!" The attempt to save face was accompanied by a very nervous laugh as she climbed down from her bed and came to the table that rested by the single window of their room. Centered between each set of bunkbeds, the table was decorated delicately with a line of books near the back and a pretty set of pens that were laying atop an open notebook.

All of which was swiftly wiped off in a clatter by Ruby.

"Hey!" Weiss yelled from behind her. "That was _my_ stuff!"

_I'm sorry, Weiss! This is for the good of the team!_ Hopefully, she would understand.

It would have later been revealed to her that she did _not._

Jaune's voice was next, as he asked, "Ruby? What are you doing?"

Mumbling to herself in thought as she worked, the caped girl tapped on her scroll complicatedly in an effort to find the app she was trying to open. "Err… where is it? Oh my gosh, those puppies are so cute! _Gasp! _The new XRAE Heat Vision Scope is coming out next week? I hope Dad gave me enough allowance this month… Nope, nope, nope – ooh!" Her expression quickly turned sour, growling, "What the- stupid Yang, stop sending me these _me-me's!_ I don't even know what these things are!"

In quite the comedic fashion, all three other pairs of eyes remained locked onto pure incoordination and spastic energy that was Ruby Rose in this very instance. Her whirlwind of emotions, expressions and phrases came to an eventual halt when she widened her metallic orbs in recognition and placed her scroll onto the desk with an exaggerated slam.

Suddenly, a projection came from within the scroll as it opened – displaying a title that came with a grandiose vocal introduction.

"Mega…"

"…Mash Sisters?"

It appeared that both Blake and Weiss were in equal amounts of confusion and could only turn to the girl who had put the entire thing on in the first place as she hauled an arm's worth of pillows onto the ground – more likely than not to sit on for the 'rad gaming sesh' that was totally about to take place.

"What?" Ruby placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow in confusion. She met the dual gazes of her two female teammates and sounded almost offended as she spoke. "You've never heard of Mega Mash before? It's like _the _party fighting game! Me and Yang always used to play it back home in Patch."

"I've, uh, actually heard of it. My own sisters and I loved it," Jaune said from the side, sat on the edge of his bed and looking at the scroll projection with a strange nostalgia.

_"Thank _you!" Slouching in relief, Ruby looked over to her downtrodden blond friend and had to clarify, "Hang on, _sisters?"_

Jaune moved his eyes from the screen to Ruby and nodded after a second, as if contemplating. "Yeah, sisters. Plural." His smile didn't waver, though it did slightly skew when he sighed, "Seven… What, have I not told you about this before?"

With a high-pitched gasp, Ruby put a hand to her mouth and squealed. "Seven?! Oh my gosh, you have to tell me all about them! What are their names? What are they like?! Where are you in the sibling line?"

"I…-" But just as the boy was about to answer, he was instead met with a slim finger to his lips as Ruby's eyes were shut in what could only be described as pure willpower and concentration.

"Wait," she said before theatrically turning her head away in a manner that seemed strangely true to her actual emotions. "I can't… but you _will _tell me later."

On Jaune's face was an expression not all too describable, but he ultimately came to answer. "Suuuuree…"

"Okay," Ruby breathed. "Gimmie your scroll."

"What-? Why me?" At his plea, the caped girl narrowed her eyes and pouted dangerously. Resigning, Jaune hung his head low and sighed. "Okay, fine."

"Thank you," she said cutely – holding out her palm in expectance as the device she asked for was softly placed in turn with her request. She broke the scroll into two parts and waved them over her own scroll that was projecting the screen and smiled at the sound of it being recognised. Swivelling on her heel, her cape flowed in the direction she turned as she held up the separated parts of Jaune's scroll in each hand. "Two controllers, ready for action! Now - I don't want to brag, or anything – but I _did _win more often than not against Yang…"

"Pfft…"

"Ha?" Ruby, channelling her inner Weiss, appeared about as affronted as she had ever been in her life as she rose an eyebrow to Jaune. "Sorry, what's so funny? I think I'm missing out on the joke here." While he was still in his pajamas, Ruby noticed that Jaune still wore socks with that same cute bunny print but that wasn't her focus for much longer as she snatched the controller than she had held high in the air with ease. That alone annoyed her, even not taking into account what he said next.

"The joke is, my dear Ruby, you're about ten years too early to beat me in a game of Mega Mash Sisters." He plopped down on the makeshift couch of pillows and plushies and gave a look to the still stood caped girl as if begging her to challenge him on that claim.

"Oho?" Doing much the same, her haughty gaze never left Jaune's and one could swear that there was a bolt of electricity between the two friends as they grinned with ferocity befitting a life-or-death situation. "And what makes you say that, my good friend Jaune?"

Without even looking at the screen itself, Jaune already began to navigate through the menu using nothing more than what appeared to be pure muscle memory. His eyes were closed and the boy began to almost recite what he said in a semi-snobbish tone. "I'll have you know that my sister, Jade, once took me on a forty-eight-hour Mega Mash training marathon over the weekends and I have never been the same person since."

_Yes! _Inner Ruby was fist-pumping her arm off. Yang would always get antsy whenever Mega Mash Sisters was brought up in conversation and Ruby would brag about being better than her. It always led to them having a rematch right then and there, taking their mind off whatever was going on at the time for good old-fashioned videogame-y fun.

And by the look of Jaune's daring grin, he was much the same.

"Is that right?" While inner-Ruby was busy celebrating over her progress to completing her goal, outer-Ruby was still actually quite confident in her own ability. "Well, I'll have _you _know that I was known as the best Ragnell player in all of Patch."

Her comment was met with another fart noise than slipped from Jaune's lips – one that basically screamed superiority and overconfidence – earning a flat look from the girl next to him. "If you're going to pick a bladie, at least choose a good one. Once you're off the ground, you aren't getting back down 'till you're all the way off-stage."

The pout on her face was evident as she began to mutter under her breath about 'how he'll be sorry' while she went through the settings and rules. Jaune seemed pretty hardcore about Mega Mash Sisters, so she set the most competitive rules she had and went for the stage that was just a single, linear platform.

"Journey's End?" Jaune questioned her decision with a raised eyebrow. "You sure you wanna go there? Not exactly a Ragnell stage…"

At this point, Ruby was having enough of her blond friend's teasing and poking and let out a frustrated sigh. He was sort of reminding her of how Uncle Qrow would always try to get in her head before a game whenever he came to visit. That and Yang's incessant talking during an actual match as she commentated over everything that was happening were some of the things she hated about her family. She still loved them, though.

"Errgh, just pick a character already so I can kick your butt…"

"Big words from a small girl."

As she hovered her player icon over the handsome blue-haired, bandana wearing man who wielded a sword twice his size – the girl could only shake her head as _'Ragnell!' _was yelled by the announcer. "I swear you've made that joke before."

"Maybe," Jaune answered, moving his own cursor over the massive roster of playable characters. "But I don't think it makes what I said any less valid."

At this point, while it may have sounded like only two of the four members of RASB were involved, it might have come as a surprise that Blake had her book resting open on her chest as she stared cattily at the screen and Weiss was eyeing the projected images with distant interest while still running through her locks. Soon, the announcer voice picked up once again as Jaune finally came to a decision. Above the player two icon was a render of a younger looking blonde boy clad in a green tunic and wielding an iconic sword and shield that anyone who had ever picked up a videogame would know about on first glance.

Ruby hummed at his choice. "Rinku?" From the ever popular Tale of Rinku series.

Squinting, the girl could help but draw the parallels between the player and the character as she turned her head between the character art and Jaune himself. Blonde hair? Sword and shield? Little earing? Arsenal of items? Check, check, check and… check. Who knows what else they could have even had in common? Ruby sure didn't.

She put a finger to the side of her mouth and whispered in thought, still directly facing him. "You know what, that actually makes a lot of sense…"

"Did you say something?"

Dismissing her friend's question with a wave of a hand she smirked and made for the game to start. "Nah." And as the three-count started to run down, the red-tipped girl felt a competitive fire burn somewhere inside of her as she rose an eyebrow to Jaune, who was looking much higher in spirits than he did when coming out of the shower. "Ready for that butt-kicking?"

And without even a look back, Jaune responded with a similar glint in the depths of those dark blue eyes of his. "Maybe in your dreams."

/-/

_GAME!_

That was the announcer's exclamation as her character lost his last life, being sent flying off the stage with an explosion from a remotely detonated bomb. Understandably, Ruby was quite genuinely distraught at actually losing and was on her hands and knees slamming the floor in a grandiose display of tragedy. In contrast, Jaune had quite the smug smirk graced on his features as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch of pillows.

"Yep. Still got it."

"Gah!" Ruby shot up and pointed a finger accursedly to Jaune. "Don't _'still got it' _me! You were on your last hit too! I hate Rinku's bombs so much – I hate _you _so much! Don't laugh at me!"

True enough to her word, Jaune was laughing at her; his arms were clutched around his side and his back was flat on the pillow-couch. And while however annoyed she looked on the outside, part of her was happy that she was able to get rid of that gloomy air around him – if only for a little while.

Jaune recovered himself and pushed himself up, shrugging. "What can I say? If I managed to keep up with Jade for two days straight, this is no sweat."

"Yeah, well, you're still going to tell me all about your sisters later on…" The grumbled as she fumbled around for the controller she had thrown away in a rage of torrential anguish from losing. However, her expression came from sour to sweet in an instant as she looked up at Blake and held up the controller. "Hey, Blake, you want a try?"

The stoic and raven-haired girl recoiled slightly at the invite, but didn't outright deny it. "Oh, I don't know if…" While she refused to look her in the eye, Ruby could tell she was at the very least interested in knowing more.

Some people just needed a little push, you know?

In a burst of rose petals, Ruby disappeared from where she was prior and instead wrapped an arm around her golden-eyed teammate – wiggling the controller in front of her like it was supposed to entice her. "Oh, don't be like that," she said. "I'm sure Jaune wouldn't mind – would you, Jaune?"

"Well she can certainly try," he said with his eyes closed in complete confidence yet again. It was like he never even recollected the fact that there was some awkward couple mumbo-jumbo between them. "But that's about as far as she'll get."

"But…-"

Ruby smiled through grit teeth and hugged Blake just the slightest bit tighter. "Please do it. If you beat him, it'll ruin his week and I really need this," she whispered.

The amount of movements in Blake's face as she contemplated her team leader's request was comical, though she turned to look at the red caped-girl's wide smile that hid the slightest amount of malice and eventually lowered her head in defeat. "Alright… if you insist."

For the second time that evening, inner-Ruby's fist-pumps tore her own arms off.

"Great!" There was another burst of rose petals, one of the tornado left in the little girl's wake floating down gently onto Blake's nose – leaving her to look at it cross-eyed while Ruby was back on her pillow-couch and mashing the buttons on the scroll-based controller to go through the character roster. "There's Lario and Muigi – he's good for beginners – there's Toadstool, Blamus, No-suit Blamus, Pikari, uh…"

On the pillow couch, Ruby sat between Jaune and Blake – who eventually made her way down from her bed and awkwardly kept her hands and feet to herself as their over-enthusiastic team leader continued to cycle through the roster and giving her inputs on each and every one of them. However, there seemed to be one character that was catching her eye throughout all of this.

"Um…"

"Huh?" Ruby turned, still hunched over the controller and smiled at Blake as she asked. "You found someone?"

"Yeah. Can I just…" Unsurely, she reached out to take the controller but when Ruby offered it to her, the black-haired girl simply put a finger onto the projected joystick and moved it over to the character she wanted.

"Luci-nya? Huh. She's pretty high-level. Are you sure?" If Ruby was speaking honestly (which she was) the way that Blake seemed to bite her thumb invisibly and nod her head was one of the cutest things she had ever witnessed. "Alright, if you say so. Oh, by the way Jaune, I'm turning on items. It's only fair and I'm sure you'll agree."

"Whatever floats you guys' boat. Not like it's going to matter." Was it bad to say that Ruby wanted to rip that smug look off his face? As his team leader – yeah, probably. But as a fellow Mega Mash player, Ruby guessed it was in her full right.

Locking in Blake's character for her, the render that appeared was of a beautiful young blue-haired lady with cat ears poking out of her straight locks of hair. Luci-nya was actually quite popular among the community as one of the most prominent faunus characters in the franchise, highly represented in top-level play. It did also help that she was super cute.

Changing the final rules within the match, Ruby hit confirm and handed off the controller to Blake – who turned it around in her hand like it was some sort of long lost relic to mankind. Her eyes and head scanned every inch of it, but it was the quiet cough that caught the smaller girl's attention as Blake meekly squeaked. "Sorry, how do I…"

Had she never played any sort of fighting game before?

_This girl is so precious._ Was the thought running through Ruby's head. She might have only known her for a couple of days, and this might have made her sort of a creep, but if Blake sold plushies of herself then Ruby would buy all of them.

"Right," she said, hovering her fingers over the buttons of the scroll-controller as the caped girl explained. "This is your attack button, that one's your special attack button, this one's jump, block, grab and that's how you roll. Got it?"

"…Yes?"

_She doesn't get it._ Ruby's internal space sighed to itself and chose give the poor girl a strained look as she slapped a hand onto the other's shoulder, earning herself a very confused look, and saluting invisibly. _At least she'll have fun. Probably. Hopefully._

"Good luck, Blake," the middle-girl nodded solemnly as she heard the announcer countdown for the second time that night.

"Uh… right." She turned her head away from Ruby, choosing to focus on the large numbers flashing on the projected scroll screen.

_You'll need it._ Ruby's neck twisted to view the infuriatingly arrogant smile on Jaune's big dumb face. She herself back to the screen and watched the two characters make their entrances to the stage. _Especially against someone like Jaune._

/-/

Or maybe she didn't. That worked too.

_"It's time to change fate!"_

The proud declaration emerging from Blake's character was followed by her rushing into Jaune's, sending him flying away like a wet noodle before exploding somewhere off the projected screen. Like it had the game before, the announcer screamed the end of the game and the winner was displayed on the screen.

And Ruby couldn't believe it.

Neither could Jaune, apparently, as his mouth was wide open and his eyebrow was raised to a stupid degree. "What… just happened?"

"So… did I win?" Blake's voice was quiet, though she seemed to shrug on one side – still completely unsure if what she did was good. She soon yelped as Ruby crashed into her side, crushing her midsection due to the hugging force she was applying to her ribs.

"Yes! Yes, you did, Blake! Haha!" Letting go of her teammate, Ruby turned around and pointed to a stunned Jaune like she did before. However, _un-_like before, her face was much fiercer and filled with much more satisfaction. "In your stupid face, Jaune! You got destroyed by a complete newbie!"

He reeled back at the finger. "Wha-? All the Mash Spheres spawned near her; that was luck. We're going Journey's End, no items, three lives. _Then_ we'll see if Blake can keep it up."

_Ugh, he's such a hardcore fanboy… _Slowly turning back to Blake, she still appeared bewildered about what was going on and simply shrugged at Ruby when their eyes met.

"Well, alright, then…" Were her inspiring words. They inspired every emotion other than confidence.

/-/

"I think I'm getting a hang of the controls," Blake said, fiddling with the buttons on the scroll as she ended the game in a pretty nonchalant fashion.

Jaune sounded like a balloon whose air was slowly being let out. The sentiment was shared with Ruby, who was slack-jawed at the results displayed on the screen. Snapping his head violently towards Blake, he ignored how she flinched back in surprise and started to yell despite how late it was in the evening. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The- the thing! You know?" Having long since dropped his controller, Jaune began to wave his arms frantically to help convey his distressed state. "It's like whenever I threw out a move, you reacted almost instantly! Those kinds of reflexes are insane!"

"They are?"

Jaune shook his head in disbelief. "Yes!"

"I don't know," she admitted, turning her head away bashfully. "Maybe it's just natural talent…"

"Natural…-" His deep-blue eyes narrowed themselves and his mouth came to a defeated frown before he collapsed on the floor in front of the couch. Dragging his arms to his head, the boy ruffled his already dishevelled blonde locks with his face squashed up on the carpet of their dorm room. "What has my life amounted to? There is no meaning. There is no reason. Jade, I'm sorry; your big brother has failed you and put your teachings to waste. Life is nothing more than-"

"Ooookaaaaay…" Ruby wanted to help Jaune out with whatever life crisis he was experiencing on their floor, but she ultimately decided that he would eventually work it out himself. Instead, she looked to Blake in amazement. "Blake, you're actually really good at this game! Are you sure this is your first time?" She rose an eyebrow playfully and nudged her in the ribs a little as she added, "You weren't lying to me, were you?"

Her response was quaint. "I wasn't." And from what Ruby could tell, it seemed for realsies.

Rising from the grave, Jaune brought himself up to stand, drawing the attention of all of his teammates as a strange shadow was brought over his eyes. With a sudden flash in his pupils, he stared down at Blake with an expression more serious than before his fight with Cardin from earlier that day.

"One more."

"Um…" Blake looked to Ruby, who only could smile weakly, and shrugged. "Sure?"

Ruby didn't really know what to think at this point. Mission success? It seemed like it. Jaune obviously wasn't as worried about whatever the heck he was worrying about and Blake was being much more social than Ruby would have ever expected her to be. Even if it was only going to be for tonight, it was pretty fun just playing videogames with all of her team. While the other two were selecting a stage, Ruby saw Weiss just staring at the screen with a hand to her chin and mouth in a thin line.

Well, most of her team. There might have still been work to be done in other areas.

/-/

The clatter of utensils and plates as Yang sat down with her tray was very audible as she picked up her fork and dug up a sizable chunk of the hearty breakfast she had gotten for herself. It found its way to her mouth and she began to chew, savouring the salty taste of crispy morning bacon – though she eventually laid her lilac gaze on the state of three fourths of her little sister's team and leaned towards the person sat next to her without taking her eyes off of them.

"Say, Ice Queen," she said.

Weiss' hand propped her head up by the cheek as she mixed the salad she had on her plate. "My name is Weiss." Weiss responded without much interest and, upon closer inspection, there were very faint dark bags around the edges of her own eyes.

"Uh-huh, right. So," Completely ignoring her, the long-maned blonde circled a finger around the other girl's teammates with a raised eyebrow. "What's up with Rubes and the others?"

Clasping the bridge of her nose, Weiss' tone grew noticeably more annoyed. Growling, she replied, "Those dunces were up all night playing that stupid 'Something Sisters' - or whatever - fighting game."

Yang saw Pyrrha hesitantly wave a hand have Jaune's head, as if wanting to ask if he was alright or wake him up. She wasn't getting anywhere with it, so she turned back to Weiss. "You mean Mega Mash Sisters?"

"Doesn't matter at this point," The haughty girl sighed. "Jaune got mad that Blake turned out to be really good and then he kept on challenging her. Eventually, he won, but his incessant celebrating got Blake annoyed."

"Woah," Yang breathed out in awe. "Blake? Annoyed?" She stared at Blake, who had her book stood up on the table to cover what would be her face flat on the long wooden dining table. "I didn't think she would ever show an emotion other than edge or angst."

"Believe me, I didn't either." Weiss then dragged her hand down from her nose and slapped both hands onto her face and sighed exhaustedly. At a snail's pace, the hands slid from her face ad Yang was able to get a better look at her features. To put it lightly, she looked like garbage compared to her usual self. At least her hair was back in a ponytail. "Ruby was Ruby and kept giving live play-by-plays, even when I was trying to sleep."

"And you didn't try stop them?"

"Of course I didn't." Despite her tiredness, the white-haired girl apparently still had enough energy to glare icicles at Yang as she snapped her head to the side. "Who do you think I am?" Yang's toothy grin and subsequent shrug had her scoffing as she returned to her original position - propping herself up by the chin with her elbow dug into the table while pouting.

"Hey, guys!" Nora slammed her tray onto the table, simultaneously waking up Ruby, Jaune and Blake as they jerked at the loud noise that reverberated across the surface of the wooden structure itself. She was met with daggers both blue and gold in colour while Ruby woozily waved to the uppity girl with a lopsided and somewhat medically concerning smile.

"Woah…" Her thumb pointed towards the trio as Ren settled next to her. "What's up with them?"

Weiss' sigh was laughably annoyed.

Taking the reins, Yang pushed Nora down to her seat by the shoulder and exhaled with a smile. "It's a long story. At least, I think." Her violet orbs came to Ruby. Her younger sister was already asleep, ignoring the strawberry yogurt that she had gotten for breakfast as she snored. "They're just lucky we don't have Miss Goodwitch today."

Maybe it was just her big-sister instincts kicking up out of nowhere, but Yang had a hint of pride while she looked at the ungraceful resting form of Ruby's idea of resting. _Whatever you did, Rubes, you did a damn good job. _And as if she had heard her, the caped girl giggled as she had her cheek pressed up against the wood – her two black and blond-haired teammates sleeping similarly on either side of her.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**There you have it. Generally, much more chilled out than last chapter though there were slight hints of drama scattered throughout the entire dormitory/shower scene. Ruby seems to have the both the wrong idea and the right idea at the same time and it also appears to be working in everyone's favour as she tried to settle the inner-team beef with some good old Smash.**

**Also, Smash is the worst way to solve beef between people. More often than not, it will further destroy your relationships.**

**While the references in this chapter were pretty on the nose, it'll also probably be on the of the only times I'll ever really do something like this. The RWBY cast playing Smash was actually an idea I had for an omake later on in the story, but I guess I managed to incorporate it into the actual main plot on this occasion. My intentions with this chapter were to just slow things down and focus a little more on the relations within the teams since they were formed before we head on into the next big thing. Trying to establish the everyday atmosphere of Beacon is also something I want to nail and don't be surprised if there are extra plot diversions and problems that don't appear in canon for our cast to face. **

**With that in mind, I hope you won't mind a couple more 'team-bonding' moments while we continue on with the main storyline. I don't know how this will be received, though here's to hoping you all like it.**

**Oh, and as a quick little fact – the last 3 chapters at least have taken place over a single day. Yup.**

**Nicholas is on his way and so is Qrow. When will they arrive? Nobody will know. I am just realising that rhymed; you're welcome. Next chapter will be more of our 'heroes' dealing with the monotony of Beacon. Jaune and Blake seem to be getting along over Mega Mash but how long will this bond last, considering the extent he frayed it to during the Truth or Dare game?**

**Btw, don't at me: **

**Weiss – Twilight Princess Zelda.**

**Jaune – Desperately wants to main Link and refuses to play other characters despite being better than his Link. His Joker is way better.**

**Blake – Lucina, with her whole masked persona and everything. Maybe Sheik too. **

**Pyrrha – Wants to play Zelda, sucks at Zelda and picks Samus/Zero Suit and absolutely dominates. Does a bit of Palutena on the side. **

**Nora – King Dedede/Pikachu depending on how she's feeling.**

**Ren – Sheik/Greninja**

**Yang – Terry/Falcon**

**Ruby – Ike/Sonic**

**While the Smash scene may be in shambles right now, take of this list what you will.**

**Stay safe and as always…**

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


	17. 17: In the Garden of Blood, Flowers Bloo

**Authors Notes:**

**G'day everyone, Shul here.**

**Not much to say today, other than I probably should have warned you all that I would be on a vacation. Little did I know, there was zero access to internet out in the Scottish highlands – something I really should have expected, in all honesty. **

**But I'm here now and we're back to Jaune living out his life in Beacon. Don't worry, everything will come around and you'll see the canon events play out with him involved. For now, let the poor boy experience what he signed up for: Smash, pancakes and really awkward situations involving the opposite gender. **

**With all that out of the way, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Accompanying him was nothing more than the tap of a pen on a blank notepad as he flicked through the mass of paper that was resting by the side of his hand.

Beacon's library was full with knowledge and, quite frankly, Jaune found it hard to get started on any of the assignments or essays he was given to do in class. Thankfully, their dust-mechanics professor – Professor Peach – was much more lenient on written tasks to be handed in. Rather, the woman preferred practical experience within the laboratory as opposed to researching from books. It was something that Jaune was especially grateful for.

Doctor Oobleck, however… well, from the size of the gargantuan heap of processed paper laying on Jaune's table, the boy liked to think that _his _thoughts on written assignments was more than evident.

Jaune himself was never great at the academics. With a resigned sigh, he turned over the page of the massive book and scanned over the miniscule text in an effort to absorb some of it.

Sure, he normally got through it thanks to the incessant nagging of Sapphire and Saffron but the Jaune was more often than not the type to procrastinate when he could. A multi-page essay about a historic battle of their choice, huh? Easier said than done.

When faced with overwhelming options, sometimes picking a single one became an impossible task. Call it first-hand experience.

Having already skimmed through the major battles he could have written about, Jaune was around halfway through the thousand-page encyclopaedia of monumental conflicts of the past. The Great War, the Faunus Rights Revolution, the Revolts of Old Vale, the Vacuan Steel Scourges. There were even a couple he remembered from middle-school, like the Cruisian-period Fires within Mistral. All of them ended with massive amounts of casualties, innocent or not – though as Jaune continued to read, his dark-blue eyes always seemed drawn to similar items no matter what battle he went through.

The _'phenomena',_ as the texts liked to refer to it as.

Certain skirmishes within each and every war came out with the same results. Bodies, on both sides, littering the battlefield due to an 'unknown' phenomenon.

Within the Steel Scourges, it was the official Vacuan military – term used vaguely – and the desert survivors fighting over resources covered the stormy sands of the heat-ridden wasteland. Within the Revolts of Old Vale, peasant and noble alike were slaughtered as riots and coups took place. Through, perhaps more famously, the Great War's 'phenomena' when Mistrali and Valean forces beached on the islands on the eastern coast of Sanus, the continent of Vale and Vacuo.

Each and every solider that landed there died. Nobody made it back home after deploying onto those remote islands.

Maybe it was because it was one of the oldest recorded battles in the first place, though no such 'phenomenon' ever occurred before the Great War. Jaune blew air out from closed lips in something that resembled a sigh. It was touched on during Doctor Oobleck's first lecture and, like he said in that very same lecture a couple of days ago, the King of Vale at the time apparently tamed the 'phenomena' to work in his favour for the final battle of the war.

Though his eyes were bored, Jaune continuously felt the urge to read more about it. Almost unnaturally.

From his forward slouch on the table, the boy reeled back and straightened himself as he heard the chair next to him scrape silently. What wasn't so silent were the words spoken.

"Hello again!" The cheerful voice greeted him with a great amount of joy. The same person cringed awkwardly as they received a forceful _'shhhh' _from the librarian who was quite literally across the room.

Jaune widened his eyes at the bright green orbs that he was met with. "Oh, hey, Pyrrha. Hold on a sec." Putting his hand on the huge book between them, he made to pull it closer towards him though struggled with the first attempt. He tried again, and succeeded, even if it took a grunt of effort.

Giggling happily, Pyrrha nodded her thanks as she sat – hands regally in the lap of her Beacon uniform skirt – as she inclined her head towards the bare notepad and book that Jaune was failing to write on and reading through respectively. "So, Jaune, what are you up to right now?"

"Nothing much, as you can see," was his response as he gestured to the lack of writing on his notepad. As Pyrrha laughed with a hand over her mouth, the blond felt a similar urge as he scratched the back of his head.

It wasn't often that they would speak like this. While their respective teams were glued at the hip, the two never really ever got alone time to talk to one another. There was an odd feeling in the back of his head that it wasn't really do to with a lack of trying, rather strange strokes of bad luck during the times when they wanted to talk to one another.

Almost by coincidence, the reasons were almost always Yang or Ruby related; the long-maned blonde would drive Pyrrha away completely unintentionally or as the shorter sister began to rant at the speed of sound to her blonde teammate just as Pyrrha was approaching.

Despite it, Jaune never really noticed. Pyrrha did.

It was sort of annoying, but here they were now – she supposed.

Leaning forward, the crimson-haired huntress-in-training brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and examined the large book that Jaune had moved out of her way for convenience. She seemed awfully close, Jaune noticed, though the girl didn't seem to care as she instead read out loud, "The Snowbound Skirmishes? Let me guess," Pyrrha said, giving a side-eye to Jaune. "Doctor Oobleck's assignment?"

Bashfully, that's right – _bashfully, _Jaune couldn't handle the redhead's close gaze and subsequently shifted his head slightly to the side before answering positively. "Yeah, you got it."

"I see," she hummed, closing her eyes and returning to her original position with her hands overlapped on her lap. Invisibly, Jaune breathed a sigh of relief; he finally got some space to himself. Her emerald eyes revealed themselves to him once again as Pyrrha tilted her head and smiled. "Coincidentally, I had just finished my own essay yesterday. If you'd like, I would be happy to help you."

As embarrassing as it was to admit it, Jaune found himself sort of entranced by the girl sat next to him.

In his past, Jaune barely had any friends – let alone girlfriends, or anything of the like. The closest thing he had to female interaction was his own sisters and the lonesome male sibling refused to admit that he even saw half of them as the opposite gender due to how borderline insane some of them were at times.

It didn't help that he spent an entire year camping and travelling around with Vul – a crass, rash, drunken walking ball of explosives that could have went off at any time. Zero female interaction during any and all time spent with that man, believe him.

And he wasn't lying that night during Truth or Dare. Pyrrha was undeniably one of the gorgeous girls he had ever met in his life.

The whole reason that Jaune actually found Weiss to be attractive when he had first saw her was due to the almost queenly nature to her – holding herself to be regal and elegant. Now, when Jaune _met_ Weiss, things were shaken up about his general opinion on her. But Pyrrha had a similar air around her, accentuated by the royal red of her hair and the bronze tiara that seemed to always rest underneath it.

Long story short, Pyrrha was beautiful and sometimes Jaune forgot that this was real life now; a life where he could have actual conversations with these kinds of people.

Jaune blinked, ridding the dryness of his eyes, and swallowed before widening his eyes and answering. "Yeah, thanks. I'd love that."

Her shoulders rose at the blond boy's response. "Grand." Pyrrha's hands fell to the seat of her chair as she moved it closer with an eager pull of her lips. "So? Have you chosen a particular conflict you would like to write about yet?"

With a nervous chuckle, Jaune reached out to grab his pen and began to idly fiddle with it. "Not yet…" he admitted. "But, uh, there's something that caught my interest."

"And what might that be?"

Putting his arms onto the table, a feat made slightly harder due to the restraining nature of the Beacon uniform he wore, the boy brought the fingers that poked out of his fingerless gloves and moved it over a couple of specific sections of the paper. Pyrrha got a closer look and ran her own eyes over the text as Jaune spoke, "If you remember from a couple lectures ago, Doctor Oobleck mentioned a strange 'phenomenon' that occurred during the Great War – one that seemingly wiped out entire armies indiscriminately."

Nodding, Pyrrha withdrew her head from the paper and put a hand to her chin. "Yes, I do recall something like that being mentioned… didn't Doctor Oobleck say most people speculated the cause to be Grimm?"

"You see, that's where I have a few problems," Jaune turned in his seat so that he sat with his legs facing the girl while Pyrrha remained with her legs still under the table.

One elbow on the backrest of his chair and the other on the desk, he continued to explain, "If it _were _Grimm, then why was the battlefield absolutely barren with activity? No Grimm, no nothing. All that was there on that remote island were the bodies of the Mistrali and Valean armies. Nothing would stop the Grimm from roaming around there if they had taken over the conflict; the lingering negative emotion would have kept them around. Instead, it was like the air there was stale of any emotion at all."

It might have been possible that both armies were wiped out so quick, they weren't able to process it.

"Right, I see… I suppose that makes sense." Her green eyes were fixated on the wood of the table as her eyebrows were ever so slightly narrowed to signify her own concentration.

"And if it were Grimm, how was the King of Vale able to use this 'phenomenon' to his advantage during the final battle in Vacuo? He didn't just _win," _Jaune added. "He _decimated. _There were near zero casualties on the Valean and Vacuan side. That can't have been done with Grimm; they're the incarnation of chaos and destruction."

Pyrrha nodded solemnly. "That is correct," she agreed. Seconds passed and that agreement shifted to a question. "So then, why do you believe that the majority of works choose to paint such phenomena as being tied to the Grimm?"

His hand came to a point. It wasn't intrusive to Pyrrha's space at all, though Jaune raised a finger as if to better tune in his verbal point. "Because it's easy," he said. "The Grimm are an easy explanation. There's so much we don't know about them so the masses that learn about these things easily accept it as the reason. The unreasonable is answered with the unreasonable and all is well – people are happy and that drives away the Grimm."

"Interesting…"

"And the thing is," Jaune leapt towards the book once more and flicked back to other pages containing different conflicts. "There have been similar occurrences dotted through time – uh, here. And here."

As the boy whizzed through the pages, Pyrrha miraculously kept up with Jaune's sporadic movements with relative ease and an elegant hum escaped her throat. "It's not _every _battle, though," she observed - and Pyrrha would have been correct in her observation. "It almost seems random where you've spotted these occurrences to take place."

"That's what you would think. But, if you take a look at the participants in the conflicts…" Jaune put his face closer to the paper and ran his finger across the texts in an attempt to dig up the information he wanted to show. Similarly, Pyrrha put her own face almost cheek-to-cheek with Jaune's, though both seemed too deep in thought to care. The words appeared on the text and Jaune tapped it twice.

"Here. Vale. Mistral. Mantle, Vacuo. Kingdoms. It was always between Kingdoms."

Slowly but surely, the crimson-haired girl was piecing it together too. "Between kingdoms… you mean to say such phenomena were only ever present during inter-kingdom conflict and never when Grimm was involved?" Turning her head to face her friend, Pyrrha looked for confirmation.

Jaune was happy to provide, "Exactly."

The two teenagers suddenly noticed how close their faces were and jumped back into their seats awkwardly with a slight tint to both of their faces. Following a cough, Pyrrha pushed onward with the line of thought as she turned to Jaune with a finger raised.

"Though, whatever it is, it can't be solely malicious," explained Pyrrha. "It took the side of the King of Vale during the Great War when Mantle and Mistral sought to root out individuality."

"Yeah…" Jaune folded his arms and felt the backrest slide up his back as he slumped down. His blonde brows furrowed, placing his pen onto the table with a slight clatter before speaking hesitantly. "That's where I'm sort of stumped." Why exactly did this thing seemingly erase indiscriminately sometimes and then take sides at others? "Everything has a reason," was said under a breath. "So, what's _your_ reason?"

A veil of silence covered the two students as they seemed to think.

"It's an unexplained phenomenon that only seems to occur when kingdoms fight each other or when they fight within themselves," Pyrrha finally spoke. She seemed to be speaking exactly what she was thinking at the time in order to properly collect her thoughts. Jaune listened in with intrigue. "In other words, when _people _fight. Mankind. Faunuskind." Nodding along, the boy was following. "At times it seems to not discriminate between who it targets, then later seems to take sides – though it almost appears to depend on the type and scale of conflict itself. Almost like it later comes to a decision. Almost like it was…"

The cloudy sea-blue of his eyes widened at the possible realisation that Pyrrha was coming to.

It was almost unnatural how the conclusion was made in complete synchrony. Both Jaune's and Pyrrha's voices chimed together with an answer. "A person."

Though, the latter seemed to have issues as she once more narrowed her eyes. "People, perhaps. Possibly an organization that has existed for countless generations that involve themselves in kingdom-related issues. They do whatever they choose to do in correspondence with the information they eventually come to learn about those same conflicts. Perhaps they possess a Semblance to ward off the Grimm from surrounding the areas they have done their business in to make the battlefields appear stale."

Pyrrha hummed, seeming to recall something. "I do believe Ren has a Semblance along those lines, so it's not all too impossible – wouldn't you say?" Her question was met with a resounding silence from the other party, and the girl had to raise her head and turn to her friend to make sure what she said wasn't stupid.

"Oh my god, that's amazing, Pyr!"

A blush rose to her as the crimson-haired girl reeled herself back with her mouth open and in a quiver. She shut it soon enough, but a high-pitched sound reverberated from behind her lips.

"That would make so much sense!" Jaune almost floated out of his seat, but not before he slammed both hands on the table in front of him and gestured wildly (and almost randomly) with his hands. "If they had lost any of their own people, it wouldn't be hard to clean up their own bodies – and with the element of surprise, they can take down as many armies as they wanted as long as they remained near-undetectable!"

The red on her cheeks was growing to match the shade of her hair, though Pyrrha fought through the embarrassment as she felt the eyes of students in the vicinity draw their eyes slowly to the sight of Jaune's external ranting. "Jaune!" The girl whispered fiercely. "Calm down! Everyone is looking at us…"

"But that would also mean that they held extreme power; taking down entire armies from both sides would be no easy feat and I-"

"Jaune…"

"-highly doubt that any old group of people would be able to take out masses of soldiers with similar numbers and remain undetected. It's possible they were maybe a primitive form of huntsmen, since huntsmen only came into fruition _after_ the Great War itself. How exactly would they-

"Jaune."

"-have the firepower and training to take down entire armies by themselves? Could it be Semblance, maybe? Or, even a-"

"Jaune!" Pyrrha hissed, the sound finally reaching his ears.

Turning his head innocently to meet the desperate gaze of his red-haired friend who hand a crooked smile and pleading eyebrows despite her reddened cheeks. Slowly, Jaune creeped his head around him and saw that the students that were working peacefully now had their gazes locked onto him and were less than happy about it.

Insisting, Pyrrha urged him a little more, "Would you mind…?"

The cringe on his face was laughable, though he doubted that anyone who had just heard him yell about his own crazy little conspiracy was in any mood to laugh.

Well, saying that put a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't just _his _crazy little conspiracy, at this point. There was someone else to thank for helping him put together the jigsaw pieces he managed to uncover.

"Thanks, Pyr. I mean it," he whispered to the girl next to him in a genuinely thankful manner. At his words, Pyrrha seemed to plume steam from atop the red of her head as the crimson that darted her face grew. "Hey, are you okay?"

What came out of her mouth was barely a whisper. "…you…" Pyrrha had her face inclined forward, attempting to hide the red colouration of her face that seemed to glow at this point.

"What was that?"

She shot her head up, lip quivering slightly as the elegant girl tried to keep her composure. "Pyr," Pyrrha repeated, barely audible despite the silence of the library. Unable to meet his slowly realising eyes, emerald directed themselves to other directions shyly. "You… you called me _'Pyr'._ I-I've never had a nickname before, so…"

Oh gods. Oh, gods, what has he done.

"Oh."

What then emanated from Jaune's throat was a sound not too dissimilar to a screeching frog croak while his face remained neutral. A light pink crept up to his own features as he felt his collar get extremely warm all of a sudden – warm to the point of itching. Waving his in front of him, he attempted to resolve the situation saying, "If you're uncomfortable with it, I'm totally cool with just calling you Pyrrha. It's just, you know, you've been a real help and I feel like we really bonded over this so it just kinda slipped out. I'm so sorry-"

"It's… fine."

Putting her friend's concerns to rest, Pyrrha's emerald eyes steadily came to meet Jaune's deep sapphire, albeit after hesitation. The blush on her cheeks was dying down as she came to smile reassuringly. "Like I said, I've never been given a nickname before. A proper one, I mean." _A proper one? What does that mean?_ He couldn't get his answer before Pyrrha's reserved yet refined gaze called for his own again. "If you're fine with it, I don't mind if you want to call me P-" Stumbling adorably on her words, she completed what she was going to say. "Pyr."

Jaune breathed in. And then out. "…Alright. 'Pyr' it is."

The two sort of stared at each other for a moment before the intensity forced them to laugh, dissipating the feeling almost instantly.

Jaune was a boy who had experienced things that no seventeen-year-old should have ever experienced. In the past year of his life, there have been events of indescribable anguish and loss that surpass that of even some graduated huntsmen. Death has bloomed in his wake and blood waters the gardens of his trail, though on this very same path – flowers bloom somewhere along the line. Red roses, dark violets, white tulips, fiery daffodils; friendships blossom from these buds but even as they do, they will never truly erase the despair that has clouded one's past and looms over their future.

But, as people, we continue to enjoy them for what they are.

And that remained true for Jaune.

"So this is where you've been, huh?" As if on cue, another voice rang between the two.

Both emerald and sapphire turned to see a certain tall blonde girl waltzing through the library with her arms behind her head. Once all eyes were on here, Yang held up a peace sign with one of her hands. "Sup," she said. The long-haired girl approached the duo and cocked a hip out, standing in front of them as they stared at the new arrival with anticipation.

"Yang," Pyrrha greeted her partner with a smile. Tilting her head, she rose an eyebrow before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I dunno," Looking off into the distance, Yang's tone leaked a passive-aggressive scent. "Maybe looking for my partner who ditched our training session and left me hanging for, like, half an hour while she was chit-chatting with my sister's teammate." Lilac eyes came back to the two of them as she shrugged. "Something like that; like I said, I don't really know."

The hands on the clock obviously shocked the blonde's partner as she gasped lightly and looked back to Yang, bowing her head slightly as she apologised. "I didn't know it was already time for that - I apologise for keeping you waiting, Yang." Raising her head, the tiara-wearing girl pleaded, "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

With a nonchalant wave of her hand over her face, Yang dismissed Pyrrha's apologetic attitude with a grin. "Nah. As luck would have it, the gym's still free. If you really wanna make it up to me, let's go a couple rounds, whaddya say?"

Pyrrha's voice deepened and rose like a mother would do when questioning their child. "Yang…" she inquired slowly. "Did you scare the other first years out of the gym again?"

Yang made to answer, opening her mouth only for it to freeze as she remained silent and her lilac eyes drifted into the distance – wide as plates. "…No."

_Yeah, that sounds like a Yang kind of thing to do. _Jaune jumped as the girl in question rotated her head to face him. Desperate to change the flow of conversation, Yang pointed a thumb in the general direction out of the library past all the tables and bookshelves that they were surrounded by. "So… Jaune. If you wanna tag along, I'm down. Nora and Ren will catch up with us too, those two are just doing… well, whatever Ren and Nora usually do."

Probably something related to Nora attempting something extremely dangerous and stupid while Ren tries his hardest to keep her alive.

Thinking about it, Jaune slowly began to weigh his options. His first week at Beacon was coming to an end and their weekday classes were over and done with.

It was a Saturday and Ruby was dragged by the hood of her cloak by Weiss to complete the former's assignments since they all knew that she wasn't going to do them. With a frustrated cry to the gods, Weiss raised her hands to the skies but soon brought them back down to grab the hem of her partner's red cloak.

So, hanging out with Ruby was out of the equation.

Blake was… somewhere. Things between them got better as the week went on, but Jaune still couldn't shake the feeling in the back of his head that he was missing something important concerning his own relationship with her. And it's not like the two partners ever really spent a lot of time with each other outside of practical exercises in the first place.

Therefore, the two options that were presented to him was either to stay in this dusty old library and complete his essay for Doctor Oobleck or go with Pyrrha and Yang to stretch his legs for a bit. The choice wasn't exactly the hardest one to make.

And as he looked to Pyrrha and saw her lightly shrug as if to say that she didn't mind herself, Jaune looked back to Yang with a shrug of his own. "Eh, sure, why not?"

/-/

It wasn't exactly a secret that Yang and Pyrrha were some of the strongest students in the year.

Hell, they might have even been able to take on some of the students in the senior years, too. The thought was brought up as Jaune watched from the side-lines, eyes examining the movements and interactions of the partners as they put hand to Aura on the large canvas of the gym.

The girl-girl partnership within Team PYRN were similar in the results delivered, though seemed to differ on the presentation.

With her own two fists, Yang tore through any and all obstacles set before her with a grin on her face and a roar of her explosive gauntlets. Pyrrha did much the same, though without the volatile tang – rather overcoming her challenges effortlessly and elegantly, keeping an air of grace despite her overwhelming skill to give her opponents a sense that she was nigh-untouchable.

Though, Jaune supposed you wouldn't really be able to say that when you were watching said girl slowly get tossed to the mat with a resounding thud that echoed around the empty hall.

"Wow," he mumbled to himself. _Can't exactly say I expected that._

Jaune had changed into his combat gear; his uniform was replaced with his signature black Pumpkin Pete's hoodie, reinforced with his leather torso padding and metal bracers. Lacking his usual belts of equipment – meaning his gun and grappling hook remained within his rocket locker – Crocea Mors stood resting on the white bench he sat on.

But what he was currently in awe of was how Pyrrha was now flat on her back, arm twisted by Yang who was still standing after the blonde threw her partner in what looked to be quite the complicated procedure. Jaune wouldn't have been able to describe it even if there was a gun to his temple.

Pyrrha shook her head as her arm was let go, putting a gloved hand to her face to quell the pain. When she opened her eyes, their emerald hue was met with the palm of Yang. Taking the hand, she was hefted up and she sighed a thank you while she regained her balance from the power of her partner's pull.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Pyrrha," Yang said with a smirk. Walking over to the side of the ring, she leaned on the roles that surrounded the mat and took a load off somewhat cockily. "What does that make it, then? Three to one?"

"I believe so," answered the crimson-haired girl. The two were clad in their own combat attires and Pyrrha made her way over to where Yang was with her hands sophisticatedly drawn and overlapping one another at her front. "It was a best of five, so it would appear that you win."

Closing her eyes in a pleased manner, Yang rose her head. "That I did."

"Though, I have to say, if it weren't for that fact that we were training our hand-to-hand – the results perhaps might have been… slightly different."

"Yeah, well," Yang pushed herself off the ropes with a 'hup' as she began to stride across to the side that Jaune was sitting on while replying. "Hand-to-hand is what we agreed on today and I totally won so that's a point for me." Behind her, Jaune could see Pyrrha rolling her eyes but quickly refocussed onto Yang who leaned over the ropes. "What about you, Jaune? Wanna have a shot? No worries, I won't mess you up _too _badly; Ruby wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

Laughing off her challenge, the boy came to a stand while shaking her head. Jaune felt her lilac gaze stick on his form while he ducked under the set of ropes. "We'll see," he said as he stood in one of the ring's corner's and started to stretch out his arms and torso.

Here for a reason, Jaune was hardly about to turn down an offer like that. Even if it was more of a dare than anything else.

He felt the knots come loose in his shoulder and sighed at the sensation before moving onto his opposite one. Though, Jaune stopped when he felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder to grab his attention.

There Pyrrha was, stood to his side. Drawing her hand back, she seemed to rise on the balls of her feet as she reminded him, "You shouldn't forget about your legs, Jaune."

"Yeah," Jaune said. "I was going to get to that."

Leg cramps really sucked. Whenever Jaune hadn't properly stretched before a long hike throughout the swamps and forests of Mistral, he'd suffer a painful tug within his muscles halfway through and really mess up the pace of wherever he and Vul were headed. If that wasn't enough to remind him to stretch, then the intense pain and sensation of something spasming and squirming under your skin most definitely was. Leg cramps hurt like a bitch.

"Alright, then," Pyrrha smiled as she walked behind Jaune and pushed him gently to sit on the ground. "Let me help you."

With no resistance, Jaune complied physically but he was still sort of confused as he verbally hesitated, "Uh, I – arrrgh!" Jaune's face twisted – teeth grit and eyes asymmetrically wide as Pyrrha pushed onto his back with his legs spread in front of him.

His hamstrings! Gods, the hamstrings! Pain – much and many pain!

And why was Pyrrha pushing so hard?! His face was basically touching the canvas of the ring at this point, back parallel to the ground as his midsection now occupied the space between his stretched legs. "Gods!" Jaune yelled in unadulterated agony. "Oh, gods, it hurts! Why have you forsaken me, Pyrrha?!"

The expression on her face was criminally tranquil as she seemed to put more force onto Jaune's leather-padded back. Ignoring the screams of the dammed from on front of her, Pyrrha instead smiled serenely – informing with that jovial waver that was almost synonymous with her personality, "If it hurts, then we're doing it correctly!"

Jaune's panicked breathing quickened as the girl behind him added pressure.

Groaning, Jaune cried, "Uncle! Uncle, I give – I give!" while slamming his hands onto the mat. What followed was another groan, though one of massive reprieve as Pyrrha laid off him and allowed his back to come back up. Panting, he stared at the girl who had just tortured him as she retreated back to the side-lines by ducking under the rope. "Why?" he squeaked quietly.

"You'll thank me later!" Pyrrha took a seat on the bench he was watching from earlier, next to Crocea Mors.

With a violent sigh, the blond stumbled to his feet only to see Yang leaning casually in the opposite corner.

"You done?" The other blonde pushed herself off the corner ropes and run a thumb under her nose before lowering herself slightly and clenching her hands into fists as they came to cover her smirk. One foot in front of the other, it seemed that the fiery girl was raring to go. "I don't know if you're into that sort of thing, Jaune, it'll be super weird if you start acting up during the spar – okay?"

Jaune rolled his shoulders lightly, followed by his legs (mostly to get rid of the lingering pain of the Pyrrha-enhanced stretch) and took a more open and loose stance in contrast to Yang's well-trained and compact form. If Yang and Pyrrha's session earlier was anything to go by, then the loss would be determined by a convincing and complete knock down to the mat. That meant face or back on the canvas, not if they came to a knee or anything similar.

In any case, he still grimaced at her implications before finally lowering himself. "I'll try not to."

"Oh, and while you're at it, try not to end this one in an explosion."

"Like I said, I'll try my best."

"You sure as hell will have to."

_Man… _In this own internal palace, Jaune could only roll his eyes. Yang sure had a mouth on her. It sort of reminded him of Vul in a way. Taking the verbal resemblance into account, it also didn't help that if squinted his eyes, he got a very different image of the girl opposite to him. The very thought gave him shivers.

Slowly, the two combatants inched closer to one another. Some might of said he was out of his depths here; he was without Crocea Mors, without his gadgets and other such gizmos.

However, what he still had was his head.

Predicting Yang's movements would have been impossible due to the extreme lack of experience he had against her so Jaune would have to rely on his own instincts to help him react in time to her explosive attacks. And react Jaune had to as Yang suddenly took off, the canvas shaking at the force of her hopping forward into action.

Yang's fists were tight around her face and her arms were tight around torso. A kind of boxer's stance, Jaune knew, that emphasised getting in close and slipping through punches. Keeping on the defensive, Ruby's older sister decided to flash forward and weave around despite the lack of attacks on his end in order to throw Jaune off on her movement.

"Tsk-!" was the sound as Jaune clicked his teeth in a mixture of frustration and surprise.

It worked, to an extent, as her jabs flickered like lightning that seemed to curve. The moment of impact seemed like only fractions of a second on his guard – though it was enough for his hands to buck back due to the power behind them.

Forced to move, Jaune chose to instead dip around rather than strictly backward due to being in a ring. Narrowly ducking under a jab, Yang's fist brushed against his dirty blonde locks and the next one made a gust of wind that was felt by the back of his neck as he barely evaded another punch.

But the high of scraping away from the jaws of Death (or, in this case, from getting a socked in the schnoz) Jaune could only widen his dark gaze as he saw Yang's gloved knuckles closing in onto his face past his guard while he was still in the action of ducking around the second jab.

It was a one-two uppercut made with zero hesitation between segments within the sequence, like the other was fully expecting him to dodge both preceding attacks in the way that he did. Really, it was a wonder why Jaune hadn't expected this – Yang was appeared almost prodigal when it came to hand-to-hand, even against someone like Pyrrha.

Time seemed to slow down as the impact was made, though quickly hastened once more as the hit connected cleanly. There was nothing Jaune could do as the boy took a twisting uppercut straight to the face, the punch rocketing straight past his guard and knocking his head up to the sky while one of his eyes was scrunched closed in pain – ruining his visual.

His boots stumbled backward and Jaune threw out a straight right to where he thought Yang to be in relation to where she was before.

He was right on the money. Unfortunately, Yang didn't make easy as she rolled around the linear punch with a gale of air, tucking Jaune's extended arm over her shoulder while her head approached his right. However, that was the least of his worries as her own right arm detonated forward and over his arm, which still stuck between her right shoulder and neck. Unable to move his right arm at all, Jaune opened his left fist and tore it to the side of his face where Yang's punch was undoubtedly aiming for.

With a clap of leather, his lively sparring partner's fist was caught within his larger palm and the two opposing hands struggled against each other and Yang's toothy smile was quite obvious, especially due to the close proximity of their faces.

"Not too shabby!" She complimented. There was an undertone of strain as she had yet to let up the strength behind their power struggle. "You're better than you look, Jaune!"

Frankly speaking, he took the words to heart. Vul had taught him fragments of a couple essential martial arts and fighting styles to cover his hand-to-hand training and the fact that he was even lasting a minute under Yang's assault was pretty much a miracle in itself.

And while she said she would hold back, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. The uppercut had flashed his Aura upon impact and Jaune had an inner feeling that it took quite a considerable chunk out of him despite the fact it was a single punch.

Their fight so far had been pretty clean and the first blood had been drawn by Yang. Unfortunately for her, Jaune hadn't exactly been trained to be the cleanest of fighters.

Without even a word of response, Jaune instead threw his forehead forward – taking advantage of the closeness of their faces to deliver a head-butt straight onto Yang's forehead. It seemed that the other was expecting a witty comeback of some kind, in turn with hers, though Jaune hoped by failing to meet her expectations he could scrape some kind of advantage in this painstakingly one-sided spar.

Golden-white and bright yellow flickered as Yang's head flew back. Jaune felt the power behind the fist in his hand lessen and the pressure that was being applied by her neck to his arm loosen.

It appeared as though Jaune was finally back in control of his arms.

Tearing his right arm away from the crook of her neck, the boy twisted on the sole of his feet and drove a right elbow into Yang's midsection and it up with left hook that came with a significant windup. It had only landed because wind was knocked out of Yang, stunning her for long enough and allowing Jaune's hook to connect.

Anything but clean, Jaune at least knew that he was doing damage as the bright yellow flash around Yang's person crackled and flared on impact.

His next punch was seemingly dodged out of pure instinct and Yang's expression turned fierce; her fanged smirk now a grimace that blazed with intensity and heat. There was a determination under the light surface of her lilac eyes and if even if Jaune wasn't able to see it – he sure as hell was able to feel at as he felt the heavy impact of Yang's leg on the brunt of his metal-covered forearms.

Kicks? Was she bringing in kicks now?

You wouldn't exactly take her for the type but when those legs of hers built enough momentum, Jaune swore it could take the head off a Grimm. Kicks _were _naturally stronger than punches – though it seemed that Yang's natural strength made that difference almost exponential.

The same leg that blasted against his dual-armed block was brought around into a roundhouse that Jaune was forced to feel the full effect of as he narrowly managed to avoid his own head being knocked off his shoulders with a single-armed block to his left that forced him flex his bicep and tuck his cheek in to soften the blow.

As Yang's leather-booted leg rebounded, Jaune's right blurred forward only for it to be batted to the side by twirling Yang – who continued to spin back around in the direction of her rebound to make her movement more fluid. Her fist came forward, catching the white of his own Aura on his cheek as it blurred past.

Jaune moved in, closing the distance to deliver an uppercut of his own. It was swiftly caught by Yang as she overlapped her hands at her midsection, stopping the attack before it even the proper amount of time to build up power. Not letting the failure faze him, the boy drew back his hand and dropped to the canvas floor. Palms on the mat, Jaune's leg came around in a full sweep that managed to catch the girl's footing thanks to the fact that it was his first low-attack of the spar.

Yang fell forward, appearing helpless, though she instead managed to twist herself to the side and roll along Jaune's back in an impressive display of bodily control. He felt the weight shift and transfer from the top of his neck to the middle of his spine before his opponent fell into a crouch and instantly threw a punch a millisecond after landing. He did the same.

Striking each other at the exact same time, it seemed that Jaune had pre-emptively turned himself around in order catch Yang with a back-handed fist while she recovered and rose to her feet. He managed to accomplish part of that goal and the two combatants simultaneously recoiled and took steps back as Aura flickered and flashed in response to each other's attacks.

And then, before either of them knew it, they were already throwing themselves back at each other.

Yang's swift combinations flowed like twisting rapids – some of which Jaune had to sway back completely in order to get out of Yang's immediate range, though he tried to keep in her face for as long as possible while feeling her legs and fists tap explosively on his wrists.

In attempts to mess up the girl's rhythm, Jaune threw out straights that were met with only air; Yang slipped in, around and between his attacks – not letting him get any more solid hits in. With one such punch thrown out, all Jaune could see was a mess of ruffled yellow hair as his opponent dipped diagonally down – straight into his blind-spot.

_Oh fuck._ Jaune cursed as, from the corner of his eye, he saw the confident smirk return to Yang's face. Her leg coursed with raw power and straightened from its bent position – the limb spring-loaded with building-busting strength – before Jaune felt something absolutely destroy the guard he had torn up haphazardly after realising what was coming.

A gazelle hook blew up in Jaune's face, blowing apart his guard and sending his arms flapping away worthlessly in the wind that came up to follow half a second after her attack. The blue of his eyes struck from left to right as Yang dipped down and under once more.

And then came the hurt.

Left hook, right cheek; right hook, left cheek – over and over again. Every punch was met with the flash of golden-white Aura as Jaune could barely keep his eyes open to be aware of where Yang was. At least he knew she wasn't going to be stepping back any time soon as his head shot left and right in response to Yang's fists. In fact, he was forced to take steps back but Yang kept the actual distance between them as her hooks kept exploding onto Jaune's face.

The stumbling ceased as the black leather of his boots planted themselves onto the canvas, struggling to stay still as the blond was still skidding backwards thanks to the force. Jaune tightened his upper body, curling it in on itself while bringing his arms forearm-to-forearm over his face and tucking his head in.

Of course, it did nothing to stop the curved hooks that continued to slam into the side of his head. The power behind the punches never lessened and Jaune was still set to weather a storm.

But weather it he would.

Yes, Vul taught him that dodging was paramount to living itself, but that was only to make his survivability out in the field even more insane. In truth, his Aura reserves were unnaturally large and the blunt force from Yang's hooks were almost completely drowned out by the spark of his Aura on impact.

If it was anyone else, their reserves would have already run dry and they would be sent hurtling back with a finishing touch by the blonde brawler before him – but Jaune stood strong as he felt the intervals between punches get more rhythmic.

One, two. One, two. Left, right. Left, right. Left-

_Right!_

Pulling apart his guard, Jaune leaned back and watched Yang's destructive right hook whizz past. While there was a pained grimace on his face, Yang's lilac orbs were wide with surprise as she opened her mouth. "What-?"

Undoubtedly, Yang grew complacent with the rhythm she built. Without Jaune to combat it in any way, her pattern became more regular. Comfortable.

Thereby, predictable.

Jaune shot forward once again, grabbing Yang's over-extended right wrist to keep her in place as he pulled back his left. Like a shotgun, his left arm bucked forward and back and the tension in his shoulder acted as confirmation that the punch had connected into the girl's exposed right side. True enough to his prediction, Yang took a few steps back – clutching her right ribs with her right hand tightly while visibly tensing.

Right, this – right that; there was a lot of right going around. Why would that be? There was a specific organ on a person's right that was only partially covered by the bones of their ribs.

The liver.

There was a reason that it was known as a vital area in combat sport. A blow to the liver was immensely painful, even _with_ Aura, and Jaune had never met anyone who could ever stand after taking a direct shot to theirs. Not even Vul, whose liver was barely functioning to begin with.

Jaune knew from experience that taking a low-hook to the liver was so incredibly painful that he would be rolling around like a baby for the next couple of minutes just to stay alive.

So imagine his surprise as Yang stopped stepping back and remained to stand, still clutching her side stiffly with her head down.

What the hell was this girl?

"Hey, Yang," he said – parting his raised fists slightly to speak through them. "You good?" Surprisingly, Jaune found himself to be sincerely concerned for Yang's health as she seemed to tremble on the spot.

Sure, they didn't have the best start – what with the wanting to probably murder him part – but they managed to put that behind them for the future friendship that they would undoubtedly share as quite literal sister teams. Speaking of sisters, Ruby was a really good friend and his team leader so if Yang got badly hurt because of him – there would be a small segment of his conscious that would feel guilty about him.

Though, thankfully, that it seemed that wouldn't be the case. However, seconds would pass and Jaune slowly grew less thankful, as he slowly began to realise the real reason behind Yang's noticeable tremble.

She wasn't trembling due to pain. Yang was trembling with _rage._

There was a blur of yellow and the girl had closed the distance between them in less than a second. The entirety of her arm was drawn back as the blonde was suspended in mid-air from the single leap that brought her from her original position to in front of Jaune.

But he couldn't bring himself to focus on that as the boy's deep-sea eyes widened, staring into the glowing crimson pit that formed and swirled around the once lilac orbs of Yang's own eyes.

"Rrraaagh!" A scream filled with anger suddenly came to his ears.

It echoed off the walls of the empty gym – the sound of fury incarnate, while the figure itself took the form of a five foot eight girl with flaming red eyes. The yellow of Yang's hair suddenly erupted into a burning gold that blinded him and her fist blazed, aiming to hit anything that was even vaguely related to Jaune.

The thought of using his own Semblance didn't even cross his mind as the punch connected – looking as though it was alight with flame - and Jaune tumbled back in a mess. His body flew over the ropes of the ring, twisting and turning uselessly before he crashed into the heavy metal weights that decorated a distant rack.

A cloud of dust seemed to kick up from the impact and Jaune groaned at the feeling of several kilograms of steel taking refuge on his chest and gut. They clattered to the side as he struggled to pull himself up.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha stood up abruptly from the bench on the other side of the gym and jogged on over to check on him.

Behind her, Yang's scowl dissipated and the red of her eyes faded back into their regular lilac hue as she went along with her partner to check on the person she might as well have punched a hole into. "Ah, crap-baskets…"

Seeing them get closer, Jaune propped his arms up behind him but used one of them to dig out his scroll from the depths of his trouser pockets. The device made a few noises before the screen projected itself with his Aura level. He felt his eyes widen slightly at what was displayed. Only a third of his Aura was left, though he didn't much time to linger on the thought as both red and yellow came to his aid.

A gloved hand was offered to him and Jaune took it gratefully. Yang brought that same hand to the back of her head when he was pulled up while she spoke apologetically. "Sorry about that," she said. "Force of habit… sorta. Are you alright? You don't look too bad."

"Yep… I'm good." Brushing the dust off his trouser legs and arms, his voice sounded slightly strained on account of being punched across the entirety of the gym. "As good as ever."

"Okay, that's great and all – really happy about that," Yang said before bringing her hands forward into finger guns and mimicked shooting them as she added with a half-squint, "But I totally won, right?"

"Yang…" Turning to her partner, Pyrrha's emerald eyes looked to Yang in a very motherly fashion – though it appeared the blonde didn't mind too much as she kept shooting from the hip with those finger guns of hers.

Jaune shrugged, closing his eyes and tilting his head in agreement. "I guess so, Yang. But, at the same time, I guess that I wasn't the one who ended it in an explosion this time."

The blonde seemed to cease fire, processing what was just said, before resigning with a hand to her head and an amused smile to her person. "Yeah," she laughed. "Guess you're right."

A yowl screeched across the empty walls of the gym, creating some sort of feedback loop that got louder and higher-pitched with every passing second. The pure eldritch nature of its sound was enough to turn the heads of the three people who currently resided within the gym. Instead of a new species of Grimm, they were instead met with a familiar face and even more so familiar shade of hair.

"That. Was. _Awesome!"_

Nora's explosive yell came from the double doors that acted as the entrance to the gym. She rose her hands in an explosive cheer while bending her knees, an action that looked quite comical considering the distance between her and the gathered group. Soon enough, she vanished from the doors and reappeared next to the trio of students.

A second figure caught up to where she was before, confused as to where the orange-haired girl had disappeared to before giving up and leaning on the doorframe in an exhausted heap.

She seemed to zip around like an orange and white striped bumblebee, saying, "I saw you guys fighting from the second floor windows and remembered that we were having a training session, so I grabbed Ren – the forgetful guy that he is-" A very apparent groan from the other side of the gym seemed to want to contest that. "-and came all the way here!"

"Why did everyone forget? I'm pretty sure I left a notice in the room…" Yang whispered to herself, lilac eyes squinting in thought.

Pyrrha could only shrug apologetically.

_"Then, _when I open the door, I see Yang go-" If Jaune had to guess, Nora was making a sound that was supposed to emulate some sort of grandiose explosion but it ended up sounding like an amalgamation of whistling and violent squelching with a 'boom' thrown into the mix somewhere. "-right into Jaune and before sending him flying! What, even _was _that?! Your Semblance?"

"Yup." Yang casually flexed an arm with roguish smile. "A pretty handy one, I say."

Yeah, Jaune would agree. 'Handy' was one way to describe it. He still couldn't really feel the joints in his shoulders or the entirety of his back after taking that punch straight to the… everywhere.

Everywhere hurt, so he supposed that Yang got him in the everywhere.

While Nora conversed sporadically with the other two members of her team, Jaune re-adjusted the metal bracers on his arms – tightening the straps under his arms to fix them from his crash landing straight into the zone of shelved dumbbells. From the corner of his vision, as the girl in question was laughing along with her orange-haired teammate, he swore that her lilac eyes flashed red yet again. He shook his head again, eager to get the resemblance out of his head.

Quite the resemble- _Semblance_ – indeed.

It seemed like a situational power-up type with a few flashy (and very painful) additions. While he could speculate all day, Jaune instead chose to lower his arms as he finished his armour's readjustment. The blond started to walk around and past the three teammates, heading towards the exit on the other side of the room.

Pyrrha was seemingly the only one who noticed as she turned around when the boy passed her. "Where are you going, Jaune?" After she spoke, it seemed that the other two girls halted their conversation and poked their heads in the same direction.

Turning on a heel, the blond continued to walk backwards – swiping Crocea Mors who was still resting peacefully on the ringside bench as he moved. "I don't think I'll be able to go another round after Yang put me through the ringer," he waved from a distance. "I was thinking of grabbing something from the cafeteria and getting on with Oobleck's assignment."

"Oh, okay!" Team PYRN's leader gave a small wave in response. Even if Jaune didn't audibly pick up on it, she sounded somewhat disappointed as she gave her own farewell. "I suppose that we'll see you later!"

Yang cupper her fingerless-gloved hand to her mouth and shouted to add, "And if you're still mad that I kicked your butt, I'm here for the next four years; feel free to make an appointment whenever!"

There was a roll of his eyes and a double hand waved as the boy came to the double doors and patted the back of the doubled over figure of Ren solemnly. "Go get 'em, tiger," he whispered playfully.

Jaune would have liked to say that Ren laughed at his encouragement but that would have been a lie. Ren did shake his head though, still facing the floor while panting – a ghost of a smile pulling his lips. The raven-haired boy eventually came to rise his head and nodded respectfully to his only male friend, the two parted ways as Jaune disappeared with echoing steps down the hallways of Beacon.

/-/

"Are you sure this is going to work? We don't even know where he is."

"You worry too much, Vel. Loosen up."

"…"

"…"

"Also, do you think really think that stealing Yatsu's wallet to buy these hidden earpieces was a good idea?"

Coco Adel pressed a finger to her ear with a roll of the wrist and replied with an exaggerated slow rise of the eyebrows. "Yeah. It's not like Yats will get mad at us or anything – he's Yats, bun-bun." She leaned casually on a wall near the Academy's indoor courtyard, covered by shadows and surrounded by waist-high, well-maintained shrubbery. It meant nobody could see her _amazing_ outfit but that was sort of the point anyway.

While Beacon had the main outdoor courtyard, there did exist small instances of green space within the walls themselves.

With no roof over the garden, it was a neatly trimmed area with obvious stone pathways and benches that decorated the sides. Sunlight beamed from above and there was a strange abundance of small wildlife in the form of birds and the rare squirrel or two despite the 'indoor' aspect of it all. The courtyard was surrounded by open archways that acted as conjunctions to the campus' main corridors, allowing for easy access both in and around.

It gave stressed students the ability to get a breath of fresh air once in a while without having to actually leave campus at all.

Though if you were like Coco and preferred a little bit of the cityscape, you'd still need to take a Bullhead to Vale every once in a while to walk the busy market streets of the capital.

From beneath her shades, Coco widened her eyes and returned a hand to her ear as her teammate spoke up again. "I don't know, Coco… why would Jaune be suspicious of me in the first place?" The rabbit faunus from beyond the earpiece stumbled on her words and just ended up sighing. "I mean - it just doesn't make sense."

"Do you really want me to explain all of this again, Vel?"

"…"

In the silence, Velvet made an attempt to speak but ended up just squeaking a little on the other side of the earpiece. Coco looked over to the girl who was sitting on the bench to see her hunched over and looking down onto the floor with a complicated expression.

_What I do for you, Vel…_

Bringing her hand down from the bridge of her nose, the beret-wearing brunette brushed away a stray bang that fell down onto her face and folded her arms back to how they were before and leaned back on the wall she was waiting on. "Professor Ozpin says this Jaune kid is probably a pretty big sceptic and a logical one at that."

"Okay…"

"Now, assuming he isn't the social type, you're basically the only faunus he's ever really seen 'round the grounds," Coco continued. "Combine that with the fact that you've been… uh, _'victimized' _by that Winchester brat in the year below, you're probably one of the highest people on his current list of 'could be' White Fang members. Because, you know – you were so absolutely _traumatized _by getting bullied that you'd resort to joining the White Fang to get revenge, or change the social structure, or whatever."

She said that, but the Cardin kid hadn't been taking the bait recently. It was both a relief and a worry at the same time, since it meant that the only chance they had to get Jaune's attention was that singular instance earlier in the week.

Radio silence proceeded the next couple of seconds. "…It still sounds like a stretch. Also, I wouldn't do that at all! That sounds horrible."

_Well, he doesn't know that, does he?_

"I'm _trying_ here, Vel, I really am." With a sigh, Coco turned her head left and right to look for that Jaune kid. It shouldn't have been too hard; a tall, blonde, decently built guy with a nice choice in accessories should have been a piece of cake to find. _Nope, not here. Not yet, anyway. _"Plus," she added idly. "We're sort of acting on the assumption that he's looking for one anyway. That makes this entire thing ten times easier."

"I suppose you're right," the rabbit faunus resigned.

And if there was any day for someone to investigate, it would be the weekends when classes were over and done with and the majority of the students had free time on their hands.

The dark sunglasses on her face dropped as Coco's auburn eyes spotted an unruly set of blonde hair approaching from the distance. "Speak of the devil," she whispered. Pulling her hand to her ear, the older girl pushed up her shades with the other with a soft tone. "Target's here, bun-bun. Eyes on the prize."

At her command, Velvet took the scroll in her hand and conspicuously began to type away at it.

Velvet had the ability to play the part of the naïve maiden that could have easily been taken advantage of by a malicious organization like the White Fang. While her actual personality was anything but, she certainly seemed like the type to an outside eye – and this Arc kid sure as hell fit the bill as an 'outside eye'.

It was a distance away, though Jaune's expression was quite the casual one. It was hard to tell due fact the blond was in the shade – much like herself – but he didn't even seem like he aware of what was going on around him; his face as peaceful as a kid going through the daily motions of life.

She wouldn't buy it.

Coco's hand hadn't left her ear as she pressed onto the earpiece again. "Alright, Vel – phase two."

Once again, following her team leader's cues, the rabbit faunus got up and started snapping photos of the courtyard with her scroll in a very non-descript way. Nothing more than a second-year student admiring the scenery. Take a couple of pics to filter and upload to your C-Nerey account like any old highschool girl.

But it appeared as though little old Jaune here thought there was more to it as he hinted at his first sign of interest, flashing his eyes down from the open roof to watch Velvet for a split-second before slowly drifting elsewhere. _Oh, yeah… you like that Jaune? Got your interest now, haven't we? _If Coco had to hazard a guess, he was probably thinking that those pictures were going to be used for some _nefarious_ purpose like possible bombsites or for analysing the structural integrity of Beacon.

Really, Velvet just liked to take photos sometimes. Even if most of her photos containing people weren't always focused on… well, the people.

"You got talent, Vel," Coco spoke into her earpiece. "Let's move onto phase three and see if our friend here picks up your trail."

Velvet's faunus ears perked up and down before she smiled happily, probably genuinely satisfied with how some of her photos came out. Before long, she was already on the courtyard's pathway and headed into the open archways that connected the area to the main corridors. The girl disappeared, tapping away at her scroll as she left, and Jaune was swift to follow when she was out of sight.

All according to plan.

"First left, bun-bun. He's pretty far from you; let's see if he can keep up."

As the blond boy moved on the path, Coco followed from the shadows of the wall. Jaune passed the archway that Velvet had, the boy now out of sight and Coco picked up the pace under the thought of losing visual on him.

Going through the exact same archway, she was greeted with a straightaway containing multiple turns to both the right and left dotted along the long corridor. As she put it: _'First left, bun-bun', _so that was where she had to go… but as the brunette scanned the corridor from behind the material of her dark shades – Jaune was nowhere to be seen.

Quietly, Coco bit her tongue and pressed onto her earpiece as her pace quickened, getting closer to the left she had told Velvet to take earlier. "Lost eyes, Vel. I'm going to get closer; I might have – ah!"

Taking a sharp turn, the girl was met with the feeling of cold leather on her face as she crashed into something that was decidedly sturdy and firm. The impact knocked off her shades, the pair landing with a clatter on the corridor floor, while her bottom was put to a similar fate. Coco had her eyes scrunched closed and a hand to her head, though saw a large inviting hand when she reopened them.

"Coco?" Jaune asked, bending down to help the girl he had knocked to the floor unknowingly. It wasn't the question he was supposed to be asking, though the boy fixed it quickly enough. "Sorry, are you okay?"

Coco took it and felt herself get hauled back to her feet. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. While the fashionista examined herself, pulling out the folds and wrinkles of her outfit, the older girl nodded her head in appreciation as the blond held out her shades that had fallen off her face. Sliding them back around her ears and pushing the glasses up her nose with ease, Coco was back to her usual look. "Thanks. Say, you wouldn't have happened to see Velvet around here, would you… uh…"

"Jau-"

"Jaune?" She completed for both of them.

Leaning forward by the hip, Coco had a hand to her chin as if he really did struggle with remembering the boy. When you had as much charisma as her, acting sort of became a cinch.

Fake it 'till you make it was good advice, kids – especially when your name was Coco Adel.

"Yeah," he answered. "I saw her back that way, just go right and you'll find her. You could probably catch up to her now."

It was a good answer. Good delivery, too. Very natural. Coco would have believed him if she didn't just watch the boy stalk her friend down this corridor in the first place. In the end, the brunette decided to give him a friendly ass-slap as she walked by – calling over shoulder with a dismissive wave. "Cheers, kid. See you around."

Jaune jumped when contact was made and could only turn around slowly while rubbing his backside idly; the expression on his face coated in bewilderment as if to ask: _'Does she do that with everyone?'. _

The answer was yes, honey. Coco hoped the poor kid didn't get his hopes up because under those eye-concealing shades of hers, the girl was hiding a bead of sweat at how close of a save that was.

Seriously, the things she did sometimes…

/-/

What a concerningly narrow save.

What was he supposed to say? The excuse of 'stalking your teammate because I think she's part of the White Fang since she's a faunus' only went so far. Jaune supposed that he and Vul had done much more with much less, though. Like that one time they went followed that faunus into a bar, then actually finding out he was a red-mask. Yeah, actually, he'd rather not remember that. He only thanked the gods that he noticed someone was tailing him after taking that turn.

After barely scraping it out of the barrel, a change of pace was needed for the blond.

So far, Jaune's day consisted of getting beaten to a pulp by Ruby's older sister, becoming a borderline conspirator with Pyrrha and almost getting caught stalking an upperclassman. With that all said, maybe a change of pace was the least he could do for himself.

Walking into the cafeteria, Jaune was greeted with a mixture of idle chit-chat, loud jeers, some eyebrow-raising statements and the smell of countless dishes being served from Beacon's kitchen team. All the meals made here were freshly, nutritiously and with the best ingredients that money could buy. But, he supposed you wouldn't guess that with the copious amounts of pancakes that were distributed by the school on a daily basis.

Students from Beacon, no matter the year, were welcome to enjoy whatever foods they wanted to whenever they wanted – though what was actually being served differed from the time of day.

A hand popped out from the crowd and practically vibrated – rose petals accompanying the motion with every movement back and forth. The boy could smile amusedly; it didn't take a genius to figure out who that belonged to. "Jaune! Over here! Gah-!" His smile vanished and was replaced with a confused look as a second hand grabbed the wrist of the first, pulling it down violently, causing Ruby to gasp in shock.

"Stop that, you idiot!" Weiss reprimanded harshly under the bodies of the students that separated Jaune from the two other members of his team.

"What? No-one's looking at us and it's Jaune! I'm his leader – I can call him over if I want!"

"Not _that," _the white-haired girl strained. Jaune squeezed between the sitting crowds, muttering apologies as Crocea Mors made manoeuvring around in tight places sort of a hassle at times. He ignored the complaints of someone as the hilt of his weapon bonked someone upside the head. "It's rather that you keep getting distracted at every little thing that passes by. I swear, you'll be have memorised the flight pattern of a fly on the other side of the window before you even complete this paragraph."

"Ugh…" Approaching the two partners, Jaune was greeted with a deflated Ruby draped onto the table. "But it's so _boring. _I don't get how you can study for so long, Weiss."

"It's called self-discipline." Folding her arms, Weiss's expression became more positive as she chose to add, "Eventually, you come to realise the value of knowledge and the joys in obtaining and _re_taining it." The same positive expression fell as she opened a single eye to stare down her partner. "Though, maybe _not_ – in your case."

"Joys my left boot…" Ruby grumbled in audibly.

"Hey, guys," Jaune greeted. Still wearing his partial combat gear, he sat down next to Weiss – facing Ruby – and saw that the two were still in their uniforms.

Beacon's rules stated that you had to wear your uniforms on the weekdays, though weekends were free game. Some preferred casual attire, others their combat gear and some chose to wear their uniform on their off-time anyway to help them get into a more 'studious mood' – whatever that meant. However, Ruby didn't exactly get a choice this weekend as Weiss forcibly dragged her into her uniform to help her concentrate.

And while it wasn't exactly working, it was evidence that the Schnee heiress did have a little warmth to her after all.

"Hello, Jaune," Weiss responded politely as he sat down and rested his forearms on the table. There were multiple historical textbooks that filled the space between her and Ruby with a parchment of lined paper that was around half-way filled that was closer to her partner than Weiss herself.

Ruby garbled something similar, face still crushed on the wood of the table.

"Oobleck's assignment?" He asked idly, spotting something concerning 'war' in the titles of one of the closed books.

"Mmm…" moaned Ruby.

"I'm going to assume that's a yes?" Jaune said, quirking an eyebrow and invisibly moving his gaze to ask Weiss.

She sighed before providing a nod.

Keeping his eyes on the white-haired girl, the boy furthered raised his blonde brow. "…And how far have you gotten?"

There was a soft _plat _as Weiss' hand met her face.

"That bad, huh? Welp," Jaune breathed in deep before releasing his built up air in a sigh. Maybe this was the change of pace he needed? If not, well – the pain to come will have taught him something at least. "You're in luck. I just so happen to be free and can totally help you out with your essay, Ruby. You're welcome." No response from the girl on the other side of the table.

A second passed before Jaune spoke again. "I'll buy that scope you were talking about for you."

Ruby's silver eyes flashed like diamonds, sparkling like stars as she slammed her hands on the table and shot her face in front of Jaune's – squealing, "Really?!"

Ah, little sisters. They were all the same.

"Really. Now come on, let's get this done," the blond reminded while nodding to the assortment of books between the three teammates.

"Bribery…" Weiss whispered quietly, arms folded across one another with a hand to her chin in contemplation. "Why didn't I think of that?" It seemed that the girl would be thankful that Jaune managed to get Ruby back on track but part of him thought that the sentiment would fade with due time.

He didn't exactly have an allowance to… well, _spend _when he made that promise.

Eh, it would be fine. Weiss was pretty well off, right?

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**That's that. **

**Jaune is going through the motions of Beacon, though similarly trying to fulfil the wishes of the headmaster in outing a White Fang spy that is totally there and not a ruse whatsoever. **

**Also, confidants earned in the form of Pyrrha and Yang? I guess? At least now he has a conspiracy partner and a proctologist but definitely not the way in the way that it sounds. Or… maybe it is? I don't know, I'm tired. I just got back and proofed this. **

**For this thinking stuff has slowed down – you're right. Give it some more time. **

**Oh, and some other news – I'm working on a new story! It's still in its planning stages and I'd want to draft out 5 or so chapters before I even think about posting it but I can say that it will involve two things: Atlas and questionable fatherly choices. **

**PMs are always open and so are reviews. Please, don't hesitate to tell me any qualms you may have with the story so far. I might even answer some of your concerns if it seems appropriate.**

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


	18. The Dress of a Bloody Maid

All there is… all there ever _was…_

Was blood.

It mattered not who. It mattered not where. It mattered not why or how, I was used without a care. Plains as green and as lustrous as emerald gemstones that sparkled under the gentle touch of the sun – turned to barren and desolate wastelands, bodies that rose: none. Once breath-taking, now breath-taking, air full of life twisted stale to suffocate.

Let the one who holds feel this weight.

Yet, I could not complain. This was my job – my duty; this stalwart slave could only ever look at themself with disdain.

Hatred writhed like a plague. Worms that infested and crawled under the skin. Feeling. To feel. What I long to feel. However, on the dark blackened canvas rolled a full and bright face until the emotions died – no more than a flame that flickered out. Why I was made no more than a maid.

Forged from Light, quenched by Dark – to clean and to purge under rampant fire. Let these hands give unto you, the One Who Spoke, something to fulfil your desire. Words, even uttered, that would bury a hundred. I knew not what you wanted at the time; guide was my purpose. But feel the flesh and bone carve as you cut into every carcass.

Addled this poor soul might have been, my God-given mission made abandoning you a sin.

I told.

_Stop. Do not. Think._

I asked.

_Why? What? Why?_

I reasoned.

_Foolish. Unattainable. You are alone._

Eventually, I accepted.

_…_

I accepted.

_…_

I…

_…_

…could not.

Yet, I spoke.

_If this is what lights the fires of your heart, I will remain by your side even when the world despises you._

And so, I watched. For countless decades. Centuries. A millennium. Time is nothing more than a concept, a thin thread that no man will never reach an end of. However, as this wretched white and bloody maid witnessed what it took to seek out your ideal – time was no longer a mere concept.

It was sanguine torture.

Nothing more than a broken thing, just like this clock, wandering the gardens and warping the buds to weeds as you trailed. Reaching for an absolute far out of your grasp. _Your_ writhing. _Your_ hate. The tip of that blade never against anyone else's throat but your own. This is what you wanted. This is what you sought. Nothing more than an iron that you, yourself, wrought.

So why is it that I screamed?

_No!_

Begged?

_Please!_

Pleaded?

_Stop!_

The texts and the scriptures elude you, my King. My Master. Ruler of nobody. Tyrant to all. Let this cruel world – the one you saw so much in – only renown you as a killer. Let the people rage in remembrance of you and your name blister their tongue in gold. Let my advice go unheard, and your life become forfeit at your own ideal.

…

I cannot regret. A bloody maid must not. However, this is a time far beyond _you – _Shadow Under the New Moon.

That night, under the blaze of the blasting infernos that engulfed everything around you, I saw a familiar glint in your eyes.

That night, with a familiar scarlet under your every step.

That night, where I was once more nothing more than a maid.

That night, you lost something dear and saw this world for what it truly was.

This night, when ash and dust flurries by – twirling to the tune of the wild wind – with my stained hands glistened under the soft glow of the New Moon as I wait for you to return.

I never would have expected that you could call my name.

And now, you walk – other steps next to yours. No matter how hard you try to hide, terror finds you constantly. However, your face twists in joy as you laugh. Yet, you still talk and converse; the cool air of a peace long forgotten swirls around your soul. You are plagued with the truth, yet you seek to learn more. At times, I wonder if you will repeat.

Time is but a concept. A thin thread without an end. Despite it, the string wraps around itself inexplicably – a warning to the inevitable.

And I can't help but wonder if…

_…You_ can unwind this string of Fate and let this lowly maid rest in peace.


	19. AN: Please Read

Apologies

Hello all,

First, I would like to just formally apologise to everyone who has been waiting for the next chapter of Under the Wing. To put some concerns at ease, no – I am not quitting the fanfic; don't worry. Rather, the problem affecting the progress of the story is a hardware one. Following the most recent chapter (the one that most of you were confused about) I had written an extra three chapters that required proofing before posting.

All of those chapters have now since been lost.

I take full responsibility for not backing up my system on any sort of external drive and that resulting in the loss of these files. Believe me, I've scaled the world and back to find a way to retrieve them since I've spent a good couple of hours writing what comes out to be 30k~ words and no such solution has come up. No windows recovery or other such recovery software I've found seems to be able to find it and I'm not about to pay 50 quid for a software that might not even work.

Since I write all of my stuff on Word instead of the website or anything else, they aren't saved to the servers and were kept as personal files that have been since been deleted

In the end, there's not much I can do but let you all know that this is a problem that has occurred due to my own laziness and that I cannot apologise enough.

However, I also ask that you don't fret. It's not as if I don't remember what exactly happens in each of those chapters. I remember all the segments that must occur and will do my best to recreate and improve them. Hell, it might as well be an excuse to ensure the quality of the chapters doesn't drop any since I have to re-write them.

Other such files I've lost include all my WIP digital art pieces and some random video games though it really has to be the loss of the chapters and the art that hits the hardest – you know? Losing the chapters makes me feel like shit but I do want to encourage all of you to be patient, even if it seems as though I don't have that right after my fuck up.

Again, my word cannot express how sorry I am to all of you. With all of my heart I beg you to be patient and wait for me to regain the entirety of the progress that I have lost.

Thank you so very much for sticking with me through this,

Shul


End file.
